Snowflakes
by Hatsu Yukiya
Summary: A series of drabbles taking place before, during, and after the movie. So many little stories have yet to be told...
1. Clueless

Fourteen-year-old Jamie Bennett swallowed nervously. "I really don't know if I can do this."

"Eh, you'll get over it," Jack replied flippantly, casually balancing cross-legged on his staff. "Just gotta suck it up and be a man, you know?"

"Easy for you to say," Jamie mumbled, pouting a bit. Jack sighed and moved closer, hovering over him with a _Why me?_ kind of look.

"Okay kid, listen," he said, crystal blue eyes looking anywhere but the boy, "I really, really don't have a lot of experience with girls, believe it or not. So I can't exactly help you out here." Honestly, why had Jamie come running to him in the first place. Jack Frost barely had experience with people in general, let alone the female demographic. But, he figured, it kind of made sense. Jamie _did _look up to him quite a bit (Jack had honestly no idea about that fact until Tooth and Sandman pointed it out), so it was understandable that he would turn to the winter spirit for help on all sort of matters. Still, though...

_Why me?_

"But what am I supposed to do?"

"I honestly have no idea."

"But..."

Jamie looked so desperate and depressed that Jack couldn't help but sigh and give in. "Okay, okay. Here's what I say. I mean, I can't really help you get it together enough to go through with this, but..." He sighed again. "Okay. You want to ask out a girl. That's good, healthy even, even if we're talking about _this_ particular girl. Don't worry about that. But if you're nervous, think about why you want to ask her out in the first place."

Jamie let out a long breath and sat down heavily, leaning his elbows on his knees. "Well...she's actually really nice and fun, despite what people say. I mean, I don't_ like_-like her, I just like her as a friend, and..." He trailed off uncertainly.

"Good, that's a good start," Jack encouraged, cursing silently at the sky. If any of the other Guardians saw what he was doing... "Anything else?"

Chewing on his lower lip, Jamie continued, "Nobody else is gonna ask her, cuz she doesn't have a lot of friends outside of me and the others. She said she wants to go to this thing, but everyone else has a date, which is dumb because we're only in seventh grade, but whatever. I'm trying to be nice."

"There you go!" Jack clapped Jamie on the back supportively. "Tons of great reasons. You're just nervous 'cause you're a kid and don't know how to deal with this stuff." He glanced up; there were Jamie's friends, coming closer to where they stood. "Alright, I'm gonna bounce. Here's your chance."

Without waiting for an answer, Jack jumped into the air and took off into the sky, leaving behind a frigid wind and a few runaway snowflakes.

"Wha—_Jack!_" Jamie hollered after him. It was futile, though. He was gone. "...Traitor."

"Hey Jamie," one of his friends greeted as the group drew closer. Jamie, feeling fairly sick, just nodded, stood, and brushed off his jeans. "Was that Jack? What'd he take off for?"

Jamie shrugged, staring at the ground. Twenty seconds of courage, he only needed twenty seconds. He didn't want to do it in front of all his friends, but supposed it simply had to happen that way. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. A determined look in his eyes, he locked onto his target and opened his mouth shakily.

"Hey, Cupcake. You wanna go to the dance with me?"

**A/N:**

**I really should not be starting another multichapter story but meh, I'm having innumerable emotions for RotG that can only be dispelled via writing cruddy fanfiction. This is going to be a series of drabbles taking place before, during, and after the movie and in no particular order. I hope people like it! **

**I don't ship Jamie/Cupcake, I just think Jamie is the nice kid who extends a hand to people who need friendship or dates or other junk. Seriously though, if I had a child like Cupcake (a big, burly girl who loves ponies and cute things) I would probably spoil her rotten. Jussayin.**

**Oh, and if you have any ideas and suggestions for this, please message me or leave them in a review! My creativity can only extend so far, hehe.**

**Thank you for reading and please review!**


	2. Sub-Temperature

"I'm curious about something."

Jack looked up at the sound of Tooth's voice. "What else is new?"

The Guardians didn't always plan out their meetings. Sometimes it just sort of happened. They would suddenly get this feeling of, "Oh, I want to go hang out at the Pole or the Tooth Palace right now," and off they went. Jack suspected the Man in the Moon had something to do with it. Manny probably liked seeing all of them in one place every so often. That was Jack's theory, anyway.

She punched his shoulder lightly. "Smart-aleck."

"What else is new?" Bunnymund echoed, snickering. Jack rolled his eyes.

Sandy said nothing, as per usual, and instead formed a question mark out of dream sand, directing it towards Tooth.

"Oh, right!" she exclaimed, punching her fist into her other palm. "As I was saying, Jack. You're really cold, right?"

He stared at her flatly, pale fingers curling around his staff. The frost adorning the wood moved with his hand, reacting to his touch. "What tipped you off?"

"Quit with the attitude and listen," she frowned. "I'm just wondering what your temperature would be. Probably less than normal people, right?"

Jack shrugged. "Probably. Not a whole lot I can do about it, though."

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing, I'm just saying..."

North chipped in for the first time since the discussion began, "I have a thermometer in the back room, if you care to try."

**xXx**

"It's not going to hurt."

"I never said I thought it would hurt."

"What are you so antsy about, then?"

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you are! Just stick the stupid thing in your ear!"

"I don't want to!"

"Why?"

"Because!"

The other three Guardians watched the heated exchange between Jack and Tooth with something akin to amusement. That is, until Sandy got bored, snatched the thermometer out of Tooth's hand, and rammed it into the side of Jack's head.

"_Ow!" _Jack exclaimed while Bunnymund laughed his tail off. "Sandy, what the hell was that for?!"

The Sandman just shrugged, wearing a neutral expression. The thermometer beeped.

Tooth grinned broadly and grabbed the instrument, looking down at the tiny screen to see the number it showed. "Hmm."

"What does it say?" North asked.

"It's just as I thought," Tooth answered. "Jack, you're twenty degrees below the average human. Interesting."

"Great," the winter spirit replied crossly. "I fail to see how the pain was necessary, though. Care to enlighten me?"

"It wasn't, but it was funny, "Bunnymund chuckled humorously. Jack narrowed his eyes and before the rabbit had time to respond a thick coating of frost was snaking its way over his fur. "Crikey! Knock that off, will you?!"

"Why?" Jack smirked, leaning on his staff. "It was funny."

"You little..."

**A/N:**

**Woo! A second...chapter...thing. This is just a little headcanon of mine, that Jack has a much lower body temperature than normal people. Not particularly interesting. That, and I just like the idea of all the Guardians hanging out every so often. **

**I'd like to take the time to inform everyone about my Facebook page, which is under the name Hatsu Yukiya. I post about my fanfiction and random junk there, and lately all I've been talking about is Rise of the Guardians, hehe. Give it a look, if you're interested :)**

**Anyway, thanks for all the follows and favorites! Please review!**


	3. Warmth

It was cold, but Jamie didn't care. He wrapped his arms tightly around Jack's waist, ignoring the frost on the cerulean blue hoodie of his friend. Because that's what Jack was. His friend. And he was getting a hug whether Jamie contracted frostbite or not.

Jack himself had gone still with shock. Jamie could probably figure why. Judging from the winter spirit's reaction when the boy had seen him in his room for the first time, it was a safe bet to assume that Jack wasn't used to recognition. Jamie was young, but he wasn't stupid. It was obvious that Jack hadn't been acknowledged in a very long time. Because of that, he had to be lonely, right?

Face hidden by the cold and stiff fabric of the taller boy's hoodie, Jamie smiled when Jack's thin arms wrapped around his shoulders. _There,_ Jamie thought. _I've accomplished something today. I made a friend._

Jack was the coolest friend someone like Jamie could ever have, now that he thought about it.

Suddenly, the exchange seemed a little warmer.

**A/N:**

**This one's really short, but still. Not all of them are going to be five hundred words or more, you know?**

**Alright, be prepared. I'm upping the feels come next chapter.**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	4. Snow and Laughter

She didn't like to play anymore. Her parents encouraged her to, to go out and spend time with the other children to take her mind off...things. But that was impossible. Without Jack around, even the other kids in the village seemed to have lost their laughter. He'd always been their leader, the instigator of all their activities, the spirit of the group. Nobody knew what do without him.

Least of all Rosie. Her brother Jack was the one who was always there when she needed him. Always. Even that last day... Rosie bit back a sob and drew her knees in close to her chest. She was back at the pond, the pond where everything had changed. It had been three weeks since that fateful day, and each passing hour was no better than the last. How was she ever going to get over the death of her brother? Especially considering the way he had died...

Rosie whimpered and brushed away the tears that had risen in her eyes. It was her fault. She was the one who had wanted to go skating that day, and she was the one who had run headfirst onto the ice before checking to see if it was safe. Jack hadn't even had time to put on his skates. Every day since then, she had come to the pond to sit and wallow in her misery. Rosie wasn't sure why; maybe it was a ridiculous, subconscious hope that Jack would be sitting on the ice like he had never left, or run out of the trees laughing and apologizing for making her worry.

Of course that wouldn't happen.

He was dead, and it was her fault.

From the grey clouds overhead, snow began to fall and an icy wind whipped through the clearing. Rosie raised her head, frowning. She thought she heard...no. That was impossible. But she couldn't shake the feeling that with the wind, her brother's laughter had echoed through the trees.

**A/N:**

**Internet: Jack's sister's name is Pippa.**

**Me: Goddammit.**

**I'm going to stick with Rosie. I like it better.**

**I'm going to try and update every day from now on. I don't usually do that, because I'm a very lazy person, but these little drabbles are quick and easy to write so it shouldn't be too hard. Sometimes I'll even update twice a day, maybe.**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	5. Hidden Depths

If one asked the Guardians, they would absolutely deny playing favorites with any of the children under their protection. That would be a dead lie.

Sophie Bennett was the favorite. By far.

So much so that they made it a habit, every time there was a major holiday, to let her spend time at that particular domain. The evening before Easter the toddler could be seen running around Bunnymund's Warren. On Christmas Eve she frolicked around the Pole, chasing the elves and getting tripped over by the yetis. On the summer and winter solstices, Sandman took her out flying. And Tooth got Sophie on her birthday.

They achieved this by having Jack kidnap her, for lack of a better term. They didn't even let Jamie know about it (Jack made it up to the boy by always being in Burgess the next day, no matter how hot it was or how far he had to travel to do so), so the entire operation of stealing the little girl away in the night was completely secret. They had been doing this for the last two years.

Sophie was five years old now, and had become completely accustomed to Jack slipping through her window certain times of the year. Eventually she even memorized the schedule and made sure to stay awake to greet him and bundle herself in a blanket so she wouldn't freeze on the flight over to wherever they were headed for the night. One thing was for sure, she was a very smart child.

This particular night was Christmas Eve, and the Guardians—sans North, who was out delivering toys at the moment — were all, gathered in the large man's personal workshop, just hanging out watching Sophie gorge herself on cookies and play with the bells adorning the elves' pointed hats. Tooth sat by the fire, occasionally getting up to join the little girl. Sandy and Bunnymund were each sprawled in their own massive armchair, and Jack sat next to the window, as close to the cold and as far away from the heat as possible. He occasionally jumped up and flew out through the large gap in the ceiling, catching some air when the fire on the hearth became too uncomfortable.

It was around three in the morning when Sophie's energy began to dwindle. She calmed down, stopped chasing the elves and trying to climb up the yetis, and yawned every now and then. She took to wandering from each of the Guardians in turn. She was just finishing up being entertained by Sandy when she rubbed her eyes and made her way to Jack. Sophie had kept her distance from him for the most part, aside from calling his name for attention every so often, mainly due to the fact that, well, it really was cold where he was sitting. So this was somewhat unusual.

She was focused on his staff. Jack was leaning back, eyes semi-shut, when he felt a sharp tug on the aged wood. Surprised, he swiftly pulled it out of arms' reach.

"Nope," he said, "Sorry, kiddo. Little girls break things. Staffs can get broken. Jack is not happy when his staff gets broken."

Sophie pouted, but recovered from her momentary disappointment and settled by grabbing onto his pants and clambering up his leg. Jack had to lean back when she began grabbing onto his hoodie, nearly falling over. Bunnymund and Tooth snorted, sobering when Jack sent them a sharp look. Sophie wrapped her arms around his neck and hung there; thus, Jack was forced to set his staff aside to support her properly.

"You getting sleepy, Soph?" he asked softly, patting her tangled blonde hair. Sophie nodded and yawned hugely. "Think you're ready to head back?"

"Uh-huh." She yawned again. "You're co-o-old."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Jack smiled. "Let's grab your blanket and we'll head out, okay?"

"Okie..."

One arm securely around the little girl's waist, Jack scooped up the blanket and his staff, waving goodbye to the others with a, "Be back soon," before taking off through the window.

There was a moment of silence in the room, and then Bunnymund said, "I'll never believe that."

"What?" Tooth asked curiously. "Oh, with Sophie?"

"Not just her," the rabbit replied, "kids in general. He's a lot better than I ever gave him credit for."

Tooth laughed lightly. "A lot better than the rest of us, that's for sure."

"Yeah. It was surprising at first. Still is."

"There are a lot of things about Jack we don't know, huh?" the Tooth Fairy pondered, looking thoughtful.

Baby Tooth flitted around her boss' head with a knowing, secretive smile.

**A/N:**

**This chapter makes up for the shortness of the last two, right?**

**Random topic here, I love Sophie's hair. I love it. I want it.**

**Thank you for reading and please review!**


	6. Cold and Dark

It was the fear that drew him in.

In all fairness, he was just doing his job.

The boy thrashed in the icy cold water, thin limbs flailing against the crushing darkness. It was the sort of darkness Pitch Black thrived in, so it was easy to slip into the pond unnoticed.

Again, Pitch was just doing his job. He didn't know who this boy was, how he had ended up in the pond, or who he would eventually become. He didn't know that this boy would eventually orchestrate his downfall. In the long run, he never would discover that this boy and the future Jack Frost were one and the same.

The Nightmare King just knew that this boy was terrified.

Which was understandable. Falling through ice into dark, murky water without the ability to swim was nothing to be taken lightly. The boy was terrified, and Pitch loved it. And he lived for his job. He loved the feeling of pure, unadulterated fear; he soaked it up like a sponge. It was the fear the fueled his power and, well, Pitch sure loved his power too.

The boy's struggles were growing weaker. He was losing strength. He was going to die, and he knew it. It couldn't be held against Pitch if he helped the process along a little. Cold and dark went hand-in-hand, after all.

And the only thing scarier than knowing you were going to die was knowing that you were going to die quickly.

A shadow reached up out of the solid black void of the pond, wrapping itself around the boy's thin, pale ankle and slowly pulling him further down. There was nothing wrong with it. He was going to die anyway. The boy was trapped under several inches of ice and he couldn't swim, so what other alternative was there? Nothing short of a miracle would save him. And miracles just didn't happen.

The boy probably didn't believe in the Boogeyman. He looked old enough not to, around seventeen or eighteen, maybe. He probably didn't see the gleam of sharp, grey-gold eyes staring out of the darkness. He couldn't see the tendril of shadow, which resembled something akin to a tentacle, wrapped around his skinny leg. But he knew he was sinking down further. And eventually, the boy just gave in. His movements stilled, and Pitch knew his work was done.

Now, what sort of fun could he have with the horrified little girl sitting atop the ice?

**A/N:**

**...the fuck did I just write.**

**I WAS ACTUALLY GOING TO WRITE A FUNNY DRABBLE THIS TIME BUT THEN I DIDN'T HAVE ANY IDEAS SO THIS LITTLE FUCKBUCKET IDEA WAS WRITTEN. It wouldn't leave me alone! **_**Why did I write this, this shit is not okay. **_

**Agaaah. **_***shudder***_** My fucking brain. It freaks me out sometimes.**

**Guys. Please send me ideas for funny drabbles. We need them.**


	7. I'm Not Telling What Happened, Don't Ask

It was Sandy who had given him the idea. He clearly hadn't meant to, of course, but Jack paid far more attention to things than people gave him credit for. They were hanging out at the Pole, for no particular reason, Sandy sipping eggnog and other confections while the elves running around underfoot. So, all as per usual. As Jack watched, the Sandman refused to give a small gaggle of elves a share of his snacks. The elves actually collapsed on their hands and knees, silently begging for a taste of food.

And that's when it hit Jack: Give the little guys a cookie or something and they would do whatever you wanted.

This was a really bad thing for a habitual prankster to discover.

Sandy looked up to see Jack staring at him and the elves intently, lips curled up in the smallest, most calculating smirk possible. He could even visualize the wheels in the boy's head turning. He was about to ask, but then figured that with the look in Jack's eyes he just really did not want to know.

**xXx**

Jack slipped out of the room and hurried down the hall, looking for ways to snag a few elves. It wasn't that hard; they were everywhere. He even tripped over a couple.

For creatures that were not permitted any food, the elves sure hung around the kitchens a lot. The counters in the room were strategically placed so high, even if the elves stacked up on top of each other as much as possible, they still wouldn't reach. They rose up to Jack's mid-torso, even. The elves clambered around the floor, little limbs stretching up trying to reach the food they couldn't have.

Jack let out a low whistle upon seeing the kitchen. North sure had the place stocked. Every single surface was covered in platters of food, from cookies and cakes to roast beef, plum pudding, and steamed vegetables. Every type of food he had ever seen—and even some he hadn't, was that a _squid?_—adorned the gold marble countertops of North's kitchen. It was amazing.

But the winter spirit didn't have time to ogle the extremely aesthetically pleasing foodstuffs cluttering the kitchen space. He had work to do.

Swiping a large plate of sugar cookies from a side table, Jack worked his way through the sea of elves and said, "Hey guys. You want some of this?"

Instant chaos. The elves swarmed around his ankles and stacked up to his knees, and Jack had to grip his staff tightly and hover a few feet above their heads. The elves calmed and shivered as the temperature in the room plummeted.

"None of that," Jack called down to them. "I'll give you some, but you have to do something for me in return. You guys capable of that?"

**xXx**

They were capable. Almost too much so.

Jack orchestrated his little plan, got the elves into place, and took off into the sky. As he flew, he could see Bunnymund arrive at the Pole and greet North out front. Jack grinned. This was going to be too good. Alas, he couldn't stick around to watch, not if he valued his life. He frowned, wondering where he could hide out until the proverbial storm had passed, and soon came to the conclusion that the Tooth Palace was his best bet. North, Bunny, and Sandy were sure to expect him to be in Burgess, so they would waste their time looking there. Besides, Tooth was more than accommodating in situations like these.

The story never really got out exactly what it was Jack paid the elves to do. It took North, Bunnymund, and Sandy three days to track him down. Tooth was in hysterics. In the end though, the Guardians certainly never spoke of it again.

However, as with all best-kept secrets, it became the stuff of legend among the immortal entities of the world anyway.

And Jack was locked out of the kitchens for good.

**A/N:**

**Headcanon: The elves can't eat because if they do they'll go bonkers. That's why they try to do it in secret throughout the film. It's like some kind of drug addiction for them.**

**Okay so last chapter someone reviewed calling me out on my language in the AN. Ahhh *awkward cough* I'm really sorry about that. I try not to swear too much in PG-rated stories of mine and that just sort of...slipped out? I apologize. This doesn't usually happen.**

**Also, Luna Awesomesauce 1012. I know you're not the most attentive person in the world, but you ARE MY SISTER SERIOUSLY YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN TO THINK I'D GET POSSESSED THAT EASILY. Also, don't go demanding things just yet; your birthday isn't until Saturday. Jeez. **

**Thanks for all the reviews and follows, guys! Please keep it up!**


	8. Thunderstorm

Thunder was scary. It was probably what scared Rosie the most, aside from things like spiders and...She didn't know, the plague maybe. She wasn't even entirely sure what the plague was, just that it was mysterious and frightening and gross. But yeah, thunder was scary too. She hated the way it lit up the dark sky with a loud, terrifying boom that made the window panes in her family's cabin rattle as the rain pounded down outside. She hated the way it made her feel tiny and helpless, and reduced her to a trembling mass every time thin tendrils of white-hot lightning stretched their fingers through the cloudy, stormy night.

But the fact of the matter was Rosie wasn't really afraid of a lot of things. She was weak and got sick quite often, but her random colds and illnesses were definitely not the plague and she always recovered within two or three days so there wasn't really a reason to fear them. And Jack protected her from most other things. So the fact that she was afraid of thunder embarrassed her greatly, even if she was only seven.

...Speaking of Jack and protection, she could really use some of that right now. The thunder was increasing its intensity and spectrum. Hers and Jack's parents would object to her sleeping in bed with them, because they thought she was too old for that sort of thing, but Jack was different. He was always willing to help his little sister out when she needed it.

He was less enthusiastic about being woken up in the middle of the night, but Rosie figured he could get over it.

Thus, Rosie slipped out of bed and shuddered when her feet touched the cold floor. The Overland house was composed of a grand total of two rooms: the main room, where all the furniture, the cooking fire, and hers and Jack's beds were kept, and the second, much smaller room that belonged to her parents. Jack's bed was on the far side of the room, across from hers, and navigating over there in the dark was harder than the little girl had expected. She tripped over the rug more than once.

Eventually, she made it over to where her older brother lay sleeping. Jack always slept face-down in a cocoon of blankets wrapped so tightly around him only the tips of his dark hair were visible. Rosie wasn't sure how he managed that without suffocating, but whatever. She reached out a pale hand, flinching when the lightning struck again, and shook his shoulder.

The sixteen-year-old stirred but didn't wake. Rosie whimpered and jostled him harder, whispering, "Jack! Wake up, please!"

His brown eyes cracked open. "Rosie?" Jack mumbled, "What are you doing?"

"I-I just..." She trailed off and gasped sharply as another crack of thunder shook the cabin. "Can I sleep with you please?"

He was so still she was afraid he had fallen asleep again, but after a moment he smiled softly and rolled over, providing room for her small body. "Mm-hmm...go to sleep though, okay? No kicking..."

"I don't kick," Rosie pouted in response. But she was relieved. Jack always came through for her. Sighing lightly, she climbed into Jack's bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin. Jack stretched an arm out and reached around her shoulders, pulling her closer. Rosie snuggled into the warmth and immediately felt better.

As long as Jack was there, nothing was scary.

**A/N:**

**Another chapter about these two because their relationship fascinates me. We don't really see it in-depth during the movie; we just get a bunch of Jack being a total dork and then TEARS BECAUSE DROWNING. He obviously loved his sister a ton, enough to sacrifice his life for her, but we don't really see him being a big brother. I just want to look at that more.**

**A lot of people really want to know what the prank last chapter was. I'm not telling, it was supposed to be left to your imaginations! Think of the most ridiculous, epic prank ever and that's what Jack did.**

**However. If you really want an **_**official**_** answer, I'll say this: It involved lots of snow and ice (how else would they narrow the list of suspects down to Jack?), partial nudity, and some extremely close calls involving bacon pancakes and Bowie knives.**

**Do with that information what you will.**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	9. Sweet Dreams

Sandman knew what it was like to be alone. He was the first Guardian; he'd been around long before the others. But even he'd still had the Man on the Moon for company, so he wasn't sure how much that counted towards his isolation status.

However, he did know what it was like to be lonely. The Man in the Moon wasn't talkative all the time, and before North came along, Sandy spent a lot of time just being alone. He never physically spoke anyway, but that was beside the point. Human contact was something that everyone needed, no matter how small.

He wasn't lonely anymore, but he remembered. Maybe that was why he felt so much sympathy for Jack Frost. Sandy knew he was alone constantly, with no believers and not even any immortals to keep him company. He felt a twinge in his chest every time he saw the boy walking along telephone lines, freezing them with his staff. Maybe that was why, when Sandy flew over Burgess spreading dreamsand, he let the tendrils float a little lower than usual, just so Jack could touch them and get a little comfort out of whatever shapes the sand took.

Most immortals didn't sleep, but Sandy liked giving Jack good dreams anyway. Even if he didn't interact with the winter spirit much at all (too busy to interact with the other Guardians, even), he liked doing the best he could to alleviate Jack's loneliness, if only a little.

**A/N:**

**Sandman.**

**Sandman.**

**That is all.**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	10. Seeing Isn't Believing

Everyone had to grow up sometime. Sophie knew that, but it didn't make her brother's sudden lack of belief any less painful. He was the last person she'd ever expected to stop believing in magic, as he was the one who had always been so passionate about it in his youth. He'd been best friends with Jack Frost, for God's sake! But, as was the case with most children, he simply grew out of it. He woke up on his eighteenth birthday a completely blank slate.

Sophie couldn't imagine the same thing ever happening to her. after all, she was the one who spent Christmas Eve at the North Pole, Easter at the Easter Bunny's warren, and her birthdays at the Tooth Fairy's domain. Those traditions had been kept for years and were still going on; she was fourteen now and still Jack came to pick her up every night before one of those holidays.

Jamie's sudden lack of belief had pained Jack most of all, she knew. He'd been the winter spirit's first believer, a little brother figure of sorts, and a very close friend. It must have been the biggest shock of Jack's long life when Jamie suddenly walked right by him without any sort of acknowledgement at all. Jamie was a typical teenager now, even if he was of legal adult age. He was into music, and had a girlfriend, and did the normal, typical teenager stuff.

On the flip side, Sophie was the quiet, strange girl in school who was known for sitting alone at lunch drawing fairies in her sketchbook and reading her brother's old, hand-me-down Bigfoot books. She didn't have many friends, but what did that matter, really? The friends she did have were immortal and fought evil in their spare time.

Thus, it wasn't considered all that unusual when somebody saw her standing out in the snow in the dead of winter, apparently talking to herself. That sort of thing was just normal for Sophie Bennett, and everyone figured it was better to just leave her be.

Still, she felt sorry for Jack. Whenever she saw him whilst walking with her brother or anyone else, she always made sure to smile, wave, and call out, "Hi Jack! See you later, okay?"

Jack would always look forlorn and melancholy, but he returned the wave with a small smile of his own.

"Who are you talking to, Soph?" Jamie asked her one day. She just shook her head.

"Jack Frost."

He grinned and ruffled her tangled hair endearingly. "You're so weird."

Sophie fell silent after that. _You have no idea._

**A/N:**

**It is my personal belief that Sophie grew up to become the Muggle version of Luna Lovegood.**

**It is also my personal belief that Jamie would never stop believing, ever. I just had him stop believing for this one little drabble because the plot bunny was **_**right there**_** and I had to use it.**

** Thanks for reading and please review!**


	11. Kuanyin

She liked the name Baby Tooth better than Kuanyin. Sure, Kuanyin was the little fairy's proper name, but she didn't feel like it suited her all that much. It was too long and grand for something so tiny. Granted, all the fairies had extravagant, deeply meaningful names, but only Baby Tooth really figured that hers didn't fit.

Each name had been assigned by the Tooth Fairy herself, their boss and, for all intents and purposes, mother. It had taken her along time to name all of them, but she had done it eventually, and what was even more impressive was that she remembered every single one. Most people couldn't tell one fairy from the other, but Tooth managed to keep them all straight. The fairies adored her, of course.

After the defeat of Pitch, Baby Tooth had suddenly found herself to be one of Tooth's closest helpers. For some reason, the larger fairy always wanted her in sight. Maybe it was because of the scare nearly being crushed by Pitch had caused (Baby Tooth had related the story of Jack sacrificing his staff for her life, and Tooth had not been pleased. She expressed regret that she hadn't punched the Nightmare King twice). For whatever the reason, Baby Tooth was subject to a lot of coddling. Not that she minded, of course.

She loved when Jack visited, which was fairly often. Baby Tooth was pretty sure he and her mama had a _thing_ for each other, something which highly amused the little sprite and she just couldn't resist interfering whenever the opportunity arose. It was fun seeing Tooth and Jack stammer and blush whenever she did so. When she wasn't teasing Jack, she was hanging around him constantly, riding on his shoulder or in his hair. Those were really the only two places on his body that weren't freezing cold. Baby Tooth liked being so close to the winter spirit. He'd saved her from the nightmare horses, after all, and the two had been through a lot together, so it made sense that they would be good friends afterwards.

He had been the one to call her Baby Tooth, and the name had stuck. Even Tooth called her that, rather than Kuanyin. And Baby Tooth herself couldn't be happier about it. The name 'Baby Tooth' singled her out as Tooth's special little girl, the real baby, the favorite. Maybe it was vain of her to think that way, but there wasn't any helping it.

That was just who she was.

**A/N:**

**About the name Kuanyin. Tooth and her helpers are based off (more so in the movie than the books) the Kinnari of Buddhist mythology. They're beautiful, half-bird women and all that. Kuanyin is the goddess of mercy in Chinese Buddhism, and I thought that the name fit Baby Tooth. She never seemed to be angry at Jack ever, even when he accidentally left her in Pitch's lair that one time.**

**Her stabbing Pitch's hand with her hummingbird nose thing is beside the point.**

**Besides, I think the fairies ought to have names, and it's a cute thought that Tooth individually named each of her babies. I love Mama Tooth Fairy.**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	12. The Man in the Moon

Jack sighed and leaned on his staff, holding it close to his body as a sort of... He didn't even know. It wasn't like he expected to be attacked. He wasn't really expecting anything, quite frankly.

So what was he doing on the roof of Jamie's house, in the middle of the night, staring up at the moon?

The irony of the moment was not lost on the winter spirit. Not even five days ago he had been standing in the exact same spot, same position. The thoughts in his mind had drastically changed since then, however.

Jack cleared his throat and said nervously, "Uh...hey."

No response. But then, he was used to that. Jack almost balked right then and there, and stifled the urge to flee and retain his (already diminutive) self-respect. He had to do this, he knew, but did he have to feel so damn stupid about it?

He took a deep breath and continued. "So I figured out a lot of things lately. Like why you put me here and what it is I had to do. Have to do, I mean. I've still got things to do." He ran a hand through his hair. "Oh man, I feel like an idiot... You're not going to say anything back. I know that. I'd really appreciate it if you listened to me here, though. I like to think you are, you know?"

Once again, the Man in the Moon said nothing, but the beams of light filtering through the air seemed to glow a bit brighter. Encouraged, Jack pressed on, "I get why I'm here, and why you took my memories. I am happy with the way I am now, for the most part. There's still some stuff I need to work out."

He sighed again, heavier this time. "Being ignored for three hundred years... being completely alone... It really sucked, not gonna lie. I guess in a way I'm still not completely over it. Maybe I'll never get over it."

Now Jack faced the moon head-on, pretending he was staring into the ancient eyes of a wizened old man with wisdom etched into every line of his face. "I feel like a moron, talking to someone who won't talk back," he said matter-of-factly. He wasn't complaining, just stating the flat, honest to goodness truth. "But I need to say this. I know who I am. I know why I'm here. And yeah, my life has been pretty miserable up till now. That's all over now, though. I'm not alone anymore. So I just wanted to say, thanks for everything."

Silence.

With a small, satisfied smile on his face and relief that this business was now over with, Jack turned to leave.

Suddenly, completely without warning and in a way that left him completely breathless as though he'd been punched in the gut, he heard a voice that he'd only ever heard once before reverberate in his mind.

_You've done well,_ the Man in the Moon said.

**A/N:**

**I don't think much needs to be said here, aside from I think this one is my favorite so far. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	13. Entertainment

Contrary to all expectation, Jack was actually rather bookish. Three hundred years yielded a plethora of free time after all, and he had to spend the empty hours doing something. And now that he had his memory back he read even more, because as far as he could tell his human family had been very poor and his school records in the early 1700's were probably even more so. Not that Jack really cared about being educated, really; just entertained. If he ended up learning something from the things he read then, well, that was just an added bonus.

It was around 1850 when he'd first started being interested in books. American literature was undergoing a growth spurt and more and more people were actually reading and becoming educated. Public education wasn't really a widespread thing yet, but at least they were trying. Jack had been floating around Boston in November of 1850 when he'd noticed a kid, probably from the upper class judging by how he was dressed, was walking around with his nose in a book. Curious, Jack leaned over the boy's shoulder to read—until that moment he hadn't even consciously known he could—and was hooked almost instantly.

Frankenstein (which was technically British, but whatever) was still one of his favorites, even now.

That was how it started. He began robbing libraries when he found things he was interested in. It wasn't hard, really. All he had to do was make sure nobody was looking, grab his book of choice, and hide it under his cloak so it was just as invisible as him. Far in the future, when libraries developed upgraded security systems, he was relieved to see that the sensors didn't go off when he walked through them with the stolen novel. He always gave the books back, of course. He knew they weren't his and that other people needed them and it wasn't as though Jack had the means to keep them anyway.

In the 1920's he'd gotten addicted to dime novels sold on street corners. It was nice that those things sold en mass because Jack could easily just grab one without the vendor noticing, read it, and then abandon the little book on a cement wall for a hobo to find or something. He liked the dime novels because they provided the genres he was into. Jack liked fantasy and action more than other things. He stayed away from romance, and the dimes didn't have a lot of that aside from the cliché "damsel in distress."

He could ignore the fact that they were hilariously inaccurate when it came to the matters of the American Frontier. Jack had been out there more than once, and it was absolutely nothing like how it was portrayed in the dimes. He could ignore it because truthfully, it cracked him up. Human adults could be really funny sometimes.

During the Depression the only things to read were articles and little blurbs written about life for the working class, or what was left of it. Jack didn't pay attention to much of that stuff and reverted to rereading his favorites: Frankenstein, The Jungle Book (as a winter spirit he stayed far away from the jungle, so this one was particularly fascinating), Charles Dickens, and things like that.

After the defeat of Pitch and his initiation as a Guardian, Jack was given free reign to run around Santoff Clausen as much as he wanted. Phil had been mortified, but he now couldn't stop Jack from wandering around the Pole to his heart's content, not since North okayed it wholeheartedly. During his long-overdue exploration of the place, Jack discovered the library. The poor boy's eyes about popped out of his head.

North had one hell of a collection.

Hours later, Bunnymund decided to visit to discuss some things about the coming holidays. Something about settling a bet or an argument with the large Russian. For whatever the reason, he and North had to run to the library to find some documents they needed, and that's when they found Jack sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a pile of books with his staff off to one side (he was being careful about not frosting up the aged pages, figuring that North and the yetis wouldn't appreciate the water damage), and completely ignoring what was going on around him.

The two senior Guardians stood in the doorway, staring, somewhat shocked about what they were seeing. One of the most surreal things about the image was that of the discarded staff; after Pitch had snapped it, Jack never let it out of his sight, let alone grip. Now it was propped against the bookshelf, even out of immediate arms reach.

"...what is he doing?" Bunnymund asked, voice full of quiet disbelief.

"Something I'm sure he'd rather we not interrupt," North replied softly, putting a finger to his lips. "We will discuss the matters later."

As quietly as possible, he eased the library door shut, and only the faintest click of the handle suggested he and Bunnymund had ever entered the room.

Out in the hall, the Pooka shook himself out of his stupor. "That was the last bloody thing I ever expected to see. Seriously."

Jack hadn't even noticed.

**A/N:**

**Good God. Here I am, lying in bed trying to fall asleep, when suddenly, a wild plot bunny appeared and beat me over the head. And I was like, "It's one in the morning, what do you want from me?! I'm tired and I don't want to!"**

**So of course I grab my iPod and write it out anyway.**

**Pffft. Whatever. Hoped you guys liked it, at least. Thanks for reading, please review, it's 1:30 AM and I'm going to sleep now.**

**Edit: Slept a solid seven hours, yay. Looking back, this isn't too bad for a sleep-deprived me. Wow, it's even almost 1000 words.**


	14. An Outsider's Perspective

Californians were weird.

More specifically, the people in Los Angeles were weird. Jack wasn't certain about the other parts of the state, especially the guys way down south. It was too hot for him to venture too far down there.

But, the weathermen had predicted a cold front sweeping through the area with frost and possible light snow, so was Jack supposed to give the opportunity up? No way. He always took the chance to be a tourist in areas he didn't usually get to go to.

So there he was, standing on a street called Figueroa or something, looking around in bemusement at the skyscrapers and the general attitude of the humans around him. This was...the oddest place he had ever been. And after three hundred years of going just about everywhere, that was saying something.

He'd followed the cold front down to L.A., where he'd summoned up the promised light snow in the morning. As soon as there was a little dusting of white, people panicked. Schools were cancelled. Road sweepers were called out. The streets suddenly fell dead.

Jack would laugh if the situation weren't so eerie.

Were they really so unused to winter? He smirked. He'd been spoiling this place. Maybe this year it would be nice to give Montana and Colorado a break from the blizzards and send the storms down here instead...

The day warmed up later, though with considerable cloud cover (he wasn't done with this place yet), and so the citizens of the city braved the cool air to venture out to do their business. That was where things were getting weird. Now, Jack knew he wasn't exactly the most normal looking person. White hair and unnaturally pale skin tended to do that to you. But when the person next to you is sporting a neon-orange suede jacket and walking a poodle whose fur was dyed purple, you kind of had to think, "What am I doing here?"

Also, the hobos. Jack had never seen so many hobos, not even during his trips to New York and Chicago. A small part of him reminded the boy that he sort of did look like a homeless person himself, but that was as far as the similarities went. Jack was pretty glad he wasn't visible to anybody in this city.

All in all, the place weirded him out too much to want to stay there any longer. Thoughts of a blizzard abandoned, he just whipped up a quick flurry for general amusement and booked it out, heading for Canada. He didn't really want to go back anytime soon.

**A/N:**

**I hope this didn't offend anybody... look, I live in Montana. I'm writing this from an outsider's perspective. Now, a while back, maybe a couple winters ago, I was getting ready for school in the morning and my mom had the news on TV. We heard of California getting snow (I don't remember the exact area), maybe half an inch or less, and schools were cancelled and everyone was freaking out. Outside on **_**my**_** street, there were at least three feet of the stuff on the ground, still snowing down heavily and the plows hadn't been sent out yet. I was still going to school. We laughed.**

**Also, I went to Los Angeles this past summer with my aunt as a gift for my sixteenth birthday. True story, I did ogle the skyscrapers (we have nothing like that up here, just mountains) and I did see a woman in an orange jacket walking a purple poodle. It was ridiculous. And this is coming from the girl who was there for Anime Expo.**

**Thanks for reading, please review.**


	15. Weakness

Well, it was official.

No matter how Kuanyin looked at it, she had never been in a worse predicament. Being trapped in the mouth of a giant horse made out of sand and carryed away from her mother didn't really make for a good day. But, it could be worse, all things considered. She could be like her sisters, imprisoned in the ribcages of the horses.

Hehe, rib-_cages_.

Kuanyin mentally smacked herself. Get it together, she thought furiously. This is no time to be spacing out! Everyone else is panicking but you need to get in gear!

She beat her tiny wings in a desperate attempt to escape, to no avail. The only thing the fairy really accomplished was wearing her energy down to total exhaustion. Kuanyin let out a heavy breath and slumped down, panting. She was too small and weak to battle against the grip of the nightmare horse.

And now she was beginning to feel afraid.

Fear was not an emotion Kuanyin was familiar with. Other emotions, sure. Rejection. Sadness. Guilt. Disappointment. Anger. Worthlessness. All things she was familiar with.

Rejection because she was different, with her mismatched eyes and aggressive attitude. She wasn't as quick or efficient as her sisters when it came to gathering teeth. Too hot-headed, they said. You don't deserve your name.

Sadness when even Tooth herself seemed to look upon Kuanyin with a bit of sorrow, disappointment, but the same amount of love. Did Kuanyin really deserve that?

Guilt when she had accidentally dropped a whole night's collection of teeth over the Indian Ocean, losing them—and more importantly, the memories within—forever.

Disappointment when Tooth assigned her to coin distribution duty for good, because she wasn't deemed skilled enough to work in the field after that incident.

Anger every time her sisters mocked her for her inability to do anything correctly.

And worthlessness whenever she thought that maybe they were right in their accusations.

Kuanyin squeezed her little mismatched eyes shut. She didn't know what was happening. Suddenly, the nightmares had attacked the Tooth Palace, taking her and her sisters away from their mother. Was she going to die?

Something told her she was.

Kuanyin was going to die in a world where nobody cared about her and she never did anything right.

And suddenly, she was jerked out of position and falling. The burning heat of the nightmare sand was replaced by something cold, icily so, but not altogether unpleasant and Kuanyin thought, Oh. This must be what dying feels like.

She cracked her eyes open and to her surprise, there wasn't darkness like she expected. There was light and eyes of the lightest, clearest shade of blue she had ever seen.

An unfamiliar male voice spoke, "Hey, little Baby Tooth. You okay?"

**A/N:**

**I don't like this one much. I tried.**

**Has anyone else noticed that Baby Tooth and Jack's sister each have the same sort of beauty marking under their right eye? Hmmm...**

**Blah blah, please review. Till next time!**


	16. Worst Fear

The thing Jack hated most about Pitch was that he was right.

He was right when he said that the thing Jack feared most was not being believed in. That the other Guardians would never believe in him, and were just using him to get the job done as quickly as possible. That he would spend eternity ignored, unable to be seen or heard by anybody. That he would never know why he of all people was chosen for the job of being immortal.

Jack wanted his memories. He really did, more than almost anything.

"You want to take them and fly off, but you're afraid, afraid of what the Guardians might think."

It was true.

And in the end, he chose companionship over knowing who he truly was.

But it didn't matter. Pitch gave Jack his memories anyway, and as a result successfully distracted the winter spirit long enough to destroy the entire Easter holiday, and cost Bunnymund all his believers.

"Jack...where were you?!"

"Oh Jack...what have you done?"

"That's why you weren't here?! You were with _Pitch?!"_

"He needs to go. We should NEVER have trusted you!"

Easter was about hope, and new beginnings. And because of Jack, all of that was gone.

All it took was a few words and his worst fears were confirmed.

They didn't want him around.

As he stared at the little wooden carving of the large-eyed baby North, Jack came to realize something. He messed up everything. It would be better to just disappear. It wasn't like he'd bring anything more to the battle, not when all he had done was cause losses. Sandy, Baby Tooth, Easter. All of those things were gone and it was all his fault.

It would be best if he were gone too.

Dropping the wooden matryoshka in the grass, Jack tightened his grip on his staff and took off into the air, leaving a frigid chill behind.

**A/N:**

**Um. Yeah. Sorry I didn't update yesterday. See, I'm really bad at taking care of myself (my eating and sleeping habits are terrible) so every so often I have to have a crashing day where I recover from my own neglect. I'm still in high school and I can already tell I'm going to be terrible at living on my own XD**

**But here! Like, four chapters at once! It's like when I updated with three chapters at once, only better.**

**For those who didn't know, the matryoshka is the Russian doll North handed Jack at the beginning. That's what you call those things; it's not just a Vocaloid song.**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	17. Honors What?

Jamie had never previously thought it was possible for Jack to get any paler than he was naturally, but it seemed that the winter spirit was hell-bent on proving any preconceptions wrong.

"What...is that..." Jack said in a dead whisper, pointing weakly to the object of his unease.

The sixteen-year-old Jamie glanced down swiftly. "My homework. So, can you help me?"

"When you said, _'Jack, I need help with my homework,' _I didn't think it'd be anything like this!" Jack flailed, looking almost comical in his distress. "That... I don't even know what that is! What kind of subjects are you taking?!"

"Honors chemistry," the younger boy replied, looking slightly crestfallen. "I guess it is pretty bad, huh? I was just thinking you might..."

"Might what?" Jack cut in, running a hand through his hair. "Jamie, I was born in 1694. The vast majority of this stuff wasn't even discovered when I was in school! I think everyone was still hung up on Aristotle, I don't know."

"I thought you said you liked reading, so I figured you'd read enough to make sense of atomic structure and chemical bonding." Jamie's breath huffed out. "You do great when it's my English homework."

Jack leaned his elbows on Jamie's bedroom desk and rubbed his eyes. "Oh, dear God..."

"You don't know any more about it than I do, huh?" Jamie sighed. "Guess I'm really not cut out for honors classes then."

The winter spirit frowned and eyed Jamie through his fingers. "What is that supposed to mean, exactly?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying."

"Am not." Jamie turned on his heel casually. "You wanna go outside?"

"What? No!" Jack rolled up his sleeves, grabbed his staff, and hooked the boy around the neck, steering him back to the desk.

Jamie yelped as frost crept down his shirt. "Wha—Ow! What are you—"

"Sit down. We're figuring this crap out."

**A/N:**

**You guys really liked bookworm!Jack, didn't you? I didn't expect the idea to be so popular :D**

**I randomly got this idea after the depression I put myself through writing the last chapter. Gah. RotG gives Wreck-It Ralph a run for its money in the **_**I will never be happy again**_** department.**

**Thank you for reading and please review!**


	18. So He Says

As far as Bunnymund was concerned, he was the only one allowed to bother Jack Frost. Come on, he had all the motivation in the world to poke fun at the kid. Every year on Easter the winter spirit insisted on freezing various areas of the world completely solid, so in Bunnymund's mind, he was entitled to a little bit of revenge.

He didn't like Jack one bit, not down to a single frozen cell on the kid's body. If he had the chance, Bunnymund would bury him under the Warren and let him melt under the Australian sun. He hadn't entirely discarded that idea, either.

So yeah, he didn't like Jack. But he knew where certain lines were drawn, and he knew what buttons to push to get a reaction.

"You're invisible. It's like you don't even exist."

"I'm the Easter Bunny. People believe in _me."_

The Pooka was fully aware how sensitive the subject of Jack's believers, or lack thereof, was for the boy. Mentioning it was a bit of a taboo among the Guardians, especially after the disastrous Blizzard of '68, when Jack's reaction to being prodded a bit too far had taken a turn for the cold and snowy.

And yet, Bunnymund figured it was perfectly justified. He couldn't lash out at Jack to get back at the latter's misdoings against the rabbit; that would be too childish and immature. The Man in the Moon would definitely disapprove. So, he did what he could. Because it was all he could do.

To his knowledge, Jack never provoked anyone else the way he provoked Bunnymund, so nobody else really had a decent, justified reason to mess with the kid's head.

"Then, I'm going to ignore you. But you must be used to that by now."

Jack had never done anything to Pitch.

As far as Bunnymund knew.

So, incensed with rage at the unjustified low blow, the Pooka immediately tried to attack the Nightmare King.

Because really, that sort of behavior from Pitch was downright uncalled for.

**A/N:**

**I don't ship Jack/Bunnymund. Please don't mistake this for a shippy chapter because I ship Jack/Marceline and nobody can stop me.**

**It really was interesting that Bunnymund immediately tried to attack Pitch after he insulted Jack, when he himself had made a similar low blow probably less than an hour earlier. This is my reason why: Jack bothers Bunny and nobody else, so Bunnymund feels he's justified in a few below-the-belt swipes every now and then. Plus, he's really into honorable fighting, so it pissed him off to see Pitch take a terrible jab at Jack for no reason.**

**DUDES IT TOTALLY JUST HIT ME.**

**PITCH KNOWS JACK'S FEAR.**

**WHEN HE INSULTED JACK, HE WAS PLAYING ON HIS FEARS OF NOT BEING BELIEVED IN BECAUSE PITCH IS FEAR PERSONIFIED.**

**GOD, I'M SLOW.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	19. Impalement Really Sucks Part 1

Jack leaned against the tree, breathing hard as blood seeped through his fingers. Damn his sense of responsibility. If he hadn't felt entitled to try and fix the situation in Japan, he wouldn't be in this situation at all. But, he was responsible, however indirectly.

A couple hundred years ago, he'd been going over Japan on his way to the main Asian continent. He hadn't meant to start a blizzard until he reached the Koreas, but he could only keep his powers pent up for so long before they leaked out a little. A storm had hit down on the archipelago country, and a woman had gotten caught up in it and froze to death.

Apparently, she was really pissed about it.

So for quite a while, her spirit been striking terror into the Japanese people as the Yuki-Onna, a spectral woman who appeared to travelers on snowy nights and used her icy breath to freeze them alive. She'd become quite the legend, although Jack had only heard about the problem recently. As soon as he had, however, he knew he had to be the one to take care of it. It had been one of his storms, after all. The Yuki-Onna was only a deceased soul, after all, and he was the full-blown Spirit of Winter, so how difficult of a challenge would it be?

Pretty difficult, as it turned out.

Jack inhaled sharply and immediately regretted doing so when a bit more blood soaked the fabric of his hoodie.

First of all, she had manifested holding a child, which immediately gave Jack pause. It didn't take him long to figure out that it was just a diversionary tactic on her part, so he was able to get down to business after the child disappeared. Talking sense into the Yuki-Onna hadn't worked—not that he had fully expected it to—and a fierce battle had commenced. Jack obviously had the advantage, as it was snowing outside during this confrontation and she was a far lesser spirit in rank anyway, but the woman proved to be pretty formidable in her own right. While Jack had the wind and ice on his side, the Yuki-Onna had mesmerizing black eyes that seemed to freeze him in place and the ability to turn into mist itself, making it difficult to track her movements.

Eventually, Jack had managed to blast her in the right place with his staff, but not before she'd worn him to exhaustion and impaled him a few times with her six-inch fingernails. Every finger, all the way down. That had not been pleasant, suffice it to say.

After the Yuki-Onna had dissipated into nothingness, Jack had felt no desire to stay in Japan and instead jumped the winds and flown towards China at top speed, where he collapsed in an unknown forest, completely run down and covered in blood. If the Yuki-Onna had been a mortal woman, the wounds from her nails would have healed within minutes, Jack wouldn't be as tired and dizzy as he was right now, and he'd be well on his way back to the Pole where he could get his hoodie washed.

Fate has a funny way of messing with people.

It really hurt. By the moon, he'd never underestimated lingering lower spirits again, not after this. One of her nails must have hit some kind of artery because blood was flowing from the area in record amounts, and the other piercings weren't fairing much better. They were placed in locations like his stomach, chest, and shoulder. With the holes being six inches deep, it would take them a day or two to heal, at best. Every part of Jack's body ached from overexertion and his vision was becoming dizzy from blood loss. He leaned against the tree he was perched in, staff held loosely in one hand while the other was pressed tightly to the worst of the piercings on his abdomen.

This really sucked, and Jack wondered dimly if the other Guardians would be worried by now. Maybe, maybe not. He had told them where he was going and what he was going to do, so maybe they would be worried if he hadn't returned to Santoff Clausen by the end of the day. It would point to evidence of him having been hurt. A part of Jack didn't want them to come after him. It was the part of him that was too used to solitude, to never having anyone worry or care when he got hurt. On the flipside, the other half of him hoped they at least cared enough to seek him out when he didn't show up back home.

Home. Heh. Weird how he'd started thinking like that.

Jack's breath rushed out and he coughed dryly, tasting the sharp sting of blood against the back of his throat. He looked up at the darkening sky and, just before passing out, was pretty certain he saw the Sandman's tendrils of golden light reaching over the canopy of the forest.

He laughed dryly. "You found me."

**A/N:**

**If there's one thing I've learned from being in this fandom, it's that all you people (myself included) love a Jack Frost in Distress. So what do you think? Do I continue and make this one a two-parter? Or just leave it as-is?**

**I took a few liberties with the Yuki-Onna. For starters, she was around as a Japanese legend long before Jack was canonically alive. Also, pffft, I just think long, weaponized fingernails are cool. There's no evidence she actually had them. This is what I get for looking at Fullmetal Alchemist pictures before I write. All the rest of that stuff mentioned about her is true, though.**

**I'm a mythology nut. Between this and Kuanyin, is that really a surprise?**

**Thanks for reading.**


	20. Impalement Really Sucks Part 2

"You look bloody terrible."

Jack rolled his eyes at Bunnymund and wheezed, "Looking pretty bloody, feeling pretty terrible. Your powers of observation astound me."

The Pooka's ears twitched and he turned to North, who was steering the sleigh, "On second thought, I think he's fine. In fact, we'd have probably been better off leaving 'im in that tree."

Jack opened his mouth to retort, but didn't get the chance before doubling over in pain, arms wrapped around his abdomen as his breath came in short pants. Sandman crouched down to his level and flicked a small amount of dreamsand in the teen's face. Jack barely had time to mumble, "Thanks Sandy..." before he was out like a light.

Bunnymund exhaled deeply and slumped down in the sleigh, keeping one paw gripped firmly on the polished edge. "I stand by what I said."

"You only say that because you hate the sleigh," North chuckled.

"Bloody right I hate the sleigh."

There was a reason they were in the sleigh, whether Bunnymund liked it or not. Jack had set off for Japan earlier that day, expecting to be back in less than six hours. They hadn't doubted him; he could fly at insanely high speeds with the force of the wind, and he was immensely efficient with his staff. It shouldn't have been too much of a problem for the winter spirit to land in Japan in two hours, find and dispatch the Yuki-Onna, and be back in time to eat with the rest of them, as it was one of those days where the Guardians had all had that urge to just hang out at the Pole.

But when Jack wasn't back by the time the sun began to go down, the others began to get worried. Sandman, who needed to begin his rounds anyway, offered to scour the corners of the world to hunt down the missing winter spirit. Tooth, though apprehensive, needed to return to the Tooth Palace for the night's collection and thus couldn't lend her fairies to aid the search. Bunnymund took off in his tunnels to help as well, after some pushing from North.

In short, the Find-Jack-Frost Committee had been deployed.

It honestly wasn't the first time this had happened.

Eventually Sandy had managed to pinpoint the teen's location to a forest in China and called up North and Bunnymund to meet him there. Actually finding Jack in the forest was a separate matter, as he was perched in the higher branches of a tall tree and it took him actually calling down, "Are you three blind? I'm dying up _here," _before they were able to get him down into the sleigh.

They were all three surprised by the amount of blood on the boy, but Jack insisted that it was no big deal. Just give him food and throw him into a snowbank for a couple days and he'd come out perfectly fine, he said. And if they didn't mind, would they wash his hoodie while they were at it?

Unsurprisingly, North hadn't been on board with the idea, and within minutes he and Bunnymund laid him out on the bottom of the sleigh and the small group was flying over the clouds speeding towards Santoff Clausen.

Tooth had returned by the time they arrived and her face melted into a look of relief when they touched down. "Is everyone alright? What happened?"

Jack blinked awake. "What happened is Japanese people are absolutely crazy..." He coughed up a few dark specks of blood before dropping off again.

Bunnymund nudged North, "Told you he was fine."

Tooth waved the Pooka off and went into mother-hen mode. "You be quiet. North, you grab him and take him off to one of the spare rooms. Sandy, go get some of the first-aid yetis. There are some of those here, right? I have first-aid fairies, so..."

"No worries, Phil can hook you up," North responded, easily lifting Jack out of the sleigh. The boy mumbled and turned over in his sleep, but otherwise didn't wake up. he was carried into a spare room where the aforementioned first-aid yetis quickly gathered and set to work. Luckily for Jack, his hoodie did turn out to be salvageable. All it took was liberal amounts of bleach and North using his infamous sewing skills honed by years of toy-making to fix it.

Jack himself slept for a solid twenty-four hours. When he woke up, feeling mostly better but still a bit worse for the wear, he was surprised to find himself swarmed by the other four Guardians with various stages of worry on their faces.

"Jack!" Tooth smiled, looking relieved. "How are you feeling?"

"Slightly less impaled," he replied, sarcastically matching her enthusiasm. "Where's my—"

"Right here, you ungrateful bleeder," Bunnymund interrupted, tossing Jack's staff onto the bed. "You're welcome."

Jack's eyes narrowed and his fingers curled around the aged wood defensively. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Guys, please don't fight right now," Tooth sighed. "Jack, honestly answer the question. How are you feeling?"

"I told you," the winter spirit replied. "I'm fine. You don't have to worry."

"When you're up in a tree passing out from blood loss, people tend to worry," North pointed out. Next to him, Sandy nodded silently.

Jack's face reddened and he looked away. "It's not necessary. It's not like I was going to die of gangrene or something if you left me there, so why bother? Even grabbed the sleigh and everything."

Tooth frowned. "Why do you think we'd have left you there? Jack, that's not how things work when you have friends. It's okay to let people help you once in a while."

As North and Sandy agreed and even Bunnymund nodded grudgingly, Jack found he didn't have a decent response.

**A/N:**

**It's late and I have other things to finish before going to bed, so... GOOD ENOUGH.**

**I expected you guys would want me to continue. I **_**did not expect to get 70-plus reviews**_** on chapter 19 alone in a single day demanding I continue. Holy jeebus, you adorable nuts apply the peer pressure like none I've ever seen. Y'all are a bunch of crazies. Crazies that I love. **_***cough***_**I fully expect you all to channel this much attention into chapters 16-18 now because they are neglected**_***cough***_

**Hope I pulled through for everyone here.**


	21. Home

Jack gaped and stared around his surroundings in shock, unable to fully process what was happening. "So...what exactly is this?"

North laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, the force of the weight nearly causing Jack's knees to give out. "It's your room, of course! For whenever you would like to stay here."

Jack fell silent, still staring around with wide eyes. After a moment, he replied quietly, "Why?"

There were a lot of reasons why, and North had considered each of them carefully. First off, after the defeat of Pitch, the Guardians were all a lot closer and spent a lot of time around each other. North even had an individual room for each of them for whenever they decided to stay over at the Pole. It only made sense that Jack received one of his own.

Second, he knew Jack was still sensitive about having been alone for three hundred years. North wanted him to know he was welcome in the Pole and that he didn't have to be alone anymore if he didn't want to. Giving him a room would let him know how welcome he was in the place. The large Russian didn't want Jack to feel lonely and have to sleep on that frozen pond he was so attached to.

And third, North worried about the younger spirit. Pitch wasn't gone forever, everyone knew that, and he wouldn't hesitate to take whatever small revenge he could, especially against Jack. North didn't really want Jack running around everywhere the way he did, but knew that the winter spirit wasn't one who would appreciate being cooped up all the time. No, definitely not. This was the best North could do.

Thus, a room in Santoff Clausen. It was small, meant for one person only, with one bed, a fireplace and a window. A few empty bookshelves lined the walls. So there wasn't much. It was bland and held no personality, but Jack could change that, hopefully.

North didn't say any of his reasons, though. He just laughed again, ruffled Jack's white hair—much to the boy's chagrin—and replied, "Why not?"

**A/N:**

**Not much to say here this time around :) Oh, but I got a fanfic recommendation on TV Tropes for this story! That's amazing. I was completely stunned when I discovered it. Thank you very much to whoever put me on there.**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	22. Believing is Seeing

Jamie sighed as he stepped into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. It had been a long weekend day of babysitting some very energetic kids down the block. His friends sometimes teased him about his pursuing such a...well, _girly_ endeavor, but hey, a guy had to get college money somehow and no business places in town seemed to be hiring.

The kids he had been babysitting were a really cheerful, idealistic bunch. As it was close to Christmas, they kept going on and on about what they wanted Santa to bring them. It was kind of cute; they reminded Jamie of his sister Sophie, who still believed in that sort of thing even though she was already fourteen.

He frowned. Sophie had been acting stranger than usual lately, talking to air more often than not. There was a reason she didn't have any friends, he thought, but he'd never seen the point in bothering her about it since she seemed happy enough. Jamie knew she got bullied, and the older-brother part of him wanted to protect her more than he could, but he only wanted to do so if she explicitly asked for help.

However, if she kept talking to her imaginary friends around him and then giving him a calculating, conspiratory look every time he glanced her way, Jamie was going to put his foot down.

The eighteen-year-old sighed again and dropped his book bag, stretching his arms. He flicked on the light and turned to sit down at his desk, figuring he could probably fit in some SAT studying before bed. But as he did, he noticed something lying on his pile of schoolbooks. Some kind of letter.

Jamie called out into the hallway, "Soph, were you in my room again?"

Sophie replied from downstairs, "Nooo. I swear!" but her tone was far too knowing and humored for Jamie to believe otherwise. He shrugged and returned his attention to the letter, beginning to read. It was written in an untidy yet legible scrawl that was almost old-fashioned in its style.

_Jamie,_

_Trust me, this was Sophie's idea. I'm actually pretty ready to let bygones be bygones, but she insisted I try...anyway, yeah. She's all torn up over you not believing anymore—not gonna lie, I was too at first, but like I said, I've more-or-less accepted it because everyone grows up at some point. _

_Not gonna lie again: I'm personally a little hopeful that this might work, but I'm not going to get my hopes up._

_So, after you get done reading this, if you have any idea at all who I am, go to the window._

_Again, this was Sophie's idea. I kind of feel like an idiot._

_From, Jack_

Gaping slightly, Jamie stared at the letter in confusion. He almost felt like he was forgetting something very important, but he didn't know anybody named Jack...did he? Maybe a long time ago?

A cold wind drifted in through the partly-opened window (Jamie couldn't remember leaving it that way) and he shivered and turned to close it.

In the frost covering the glass, there was a single drawing of an Easter egg and above it, a crudely-drawn rabbit.

Jamie saw them, and that's when everything came rushing back.

Jack.

That was who the letter was from, Jack Frost. Jamie knew him. He was the Spirit of Winter and Jamie first met him a long time ago, and he'd also met the Easter Bunny, and Santa, and the Tooth Fairy, and the Sandman. They had defeated a guy called Pitch Black, the Nightmare King. They were real, and all of a sudden, Jamie remembered.

Jack Frost was his best friend.

How could he ever have forgotten?

Breathing heavily, eyes wide, Jamie rushed over to the window and threw it open, sticking his head out into the darkness. "Jack!" he called, searching desperately for a glimpse of a blue hoodie and snow-white hair. "Jack, where are you? It's Jamie!"

The wind blew, but nobody replied. Jamie called out for a few more minutes, his voice becoming increasingly agitated the longer he went without a response. His white knuckles gripped the windowsill tightly, and he yelled out one final time, _"Jack!"_

There was nothing.

Jamie slumped against the sill, feeling more alone and defeated than he ever had. Why had he expected that Jack would still be waiting? The winter spirit had admitted to not feeling particularly hopeful that the letter would work, so it would make sense for him to not stick around. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Jamie straightened up and turned to leave.

Without so much as a word of warning, a snowball came flying out of the darkness and hit him in the face.

**A/N:**

**Jamie believes again! I've seen fics where he stops believing, but none where he actually regains his belief, so...yeah.**

**Let it be known that I am a terrible klutz. I had a rather nasty fall last night (long story short, don't hurry over a wooden floor whilst wearing socks) that resulted in a gross cut on my elbow. So, my arm is very sore and I can't really bend it out of pain—I think it has something to do with all the nerves in an elbow? I don't know—and the fact that if I do the Band-Aid will pop off and that probably wouldn't be a good thing. I'm fine, really, that's just the extent of it. Regardless, here is a chapter! I am a boss, working through pain! There is a chance updates will be slower, though, until I can fully move it again, if only because writing does kind of hurt.**

**So we hit five hundred reviews Q.Q Seriously, what is this? I honestly don't believe my writing is so great as to warrant that kind of attention. I love you all, oh my god. Let's be friends. And hey, let's try our hand at getting 500 follows now!**

**Thank you all VERY much for reading and please review!**


	23. The Find-Jack-Frost Committee

Jack actually did need to sleep sometime. He could run for a long time on little to no sleep, and the other Guardians and most of the other immortals were the same way. (So he assumed; Jack hadn't actually met very many of them.) Every once in a while, though, he had a crashing day, which was really two or three days, where he just slept and recovered from his own personal neglect, because even if he could go long periods of time without sleep didn't mean that he did it as often as he should.

He found the most comfort in snowbanks, naturally. He was literally in his element when he did so; being surrounded by comfortable, freezing fluff was immensely relaxing. Even if he did accidentally end up burying himself on more than one occasion. But whatever, suddenly waking up to a worrying lack of oxygen was worth the energy the rest provided afterwards.

Jack forgot to tell the other Guardians about this.

In his defense, it hadn't seemed like something he could just bring up in a conversation.

So when he disappeared one day and didn't turn back up after forty-eight hours, the others panicked a bit. After the Yuki-Onna incident and the constant threat of Pitch, everyone was on high alert. They jumped in the sleigh and took off to Burgess to seek out the winter spirit.

They landed on his pond, which they figured to be the place he was most likely to be.

"Frostbite!" Bunnymund called out, irritated at having been drug along on this endeavor. "I swear on the moon, he's way too much trouble..."

The others wandered around the area, calling for Jack and looking in the trees. They even stamped through underbrush in case he had passed out somewhere.

"Jack!"

"Ja-a-ack!"

Tooth screamed out loud when Jack's white head suddenly popped out of a snowbank.

He dusted some snow off his shoulders and yawned, rubbing his eyes. "What?" Jack asked grumpily. "What are you guys doing tramping around like crazy people?"

"Looking for you," Tooth replied weakly, trembling delicately at the surprise. "What are _you _doing?"

"I _was _sleeping," Jack said, yawning again. "You need something?"

"...No."

"You people are weird," Jack deadpanned, and then flopped back into the snow. "I'm going back to sleep."

North coughed. "Alright. You...go ahead and do that."

Jack was out within moments.

The Guardians decided it was in their best interest to never speak of this again.

**A/N:**

**Based on a very amusing headcanon I saw on tumblr. **

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	24. Sugar Rush

Jamie spluttered, choking on his soda as he and Sophie gaped at Jack incredulously. "H-How old, exactly?"

Jack leaned back, frowning in concentration. "Hmm, math really isn't my strong point... Okay, so I was born in 1694 and was made immortal in about 1711, which made me seventeen." Counting on his fingers, he continued, "If it's now 2019, then... I'm three hundred and twenty-five, give or take."

The Bennett siblings stared at him with wide eyes. At ages fourteen and ten, they couldn't fully comprehend such an old being. To them, fifty-five (the age of their father) was ancient.

"Wow," Sophie breathed, blinking her green eyes a few times. "You are old."

"W-Wha—"Jack scowled. "You're only old if you look it. Like North and the kangaroo."

"But Bunny doesn't really..."

"Doesn't matter."

"You don't really act that old, though," Jamie pointed out, cleverly redirecting the subject. "You just act like a teenager."

Jack had to grin at this. "You know what's really weird?" He indicated towards Jamie's soda glass. "I haven't ever had any of that stuff."

Their mouths fell open once more.

"You...haven't had any..."

"Seriously?"

Sophie snatched up a bag of Cheetos. "What about these? Have you had these?"

Jack silently shook his head.

"What about, like, potato chips or candy?" Jamie's voice was becoming increasingly agitated, and Jack raised his eyebrows. What was the big deal?

He sighed. "No, guys. I haven't ever had any of those things. In fact, I've hardly eaten anything in the past few centuries. Never had to, being immortal and all..." There was also never an immediate supply of food at hand nor was there any way for Jack to get some, but that was beside the point.

That last remark seemed to set the siblings off all over again. Launching into panic mode, they jumped up and ran around their house grabbing as much junk food as they could find: chips, soda, pizza, M&M's, and all other sorts of candy Jack was certain would make his teeth rot and fall out. That would definitely not make Tooth happy, and if he liked one thing, it was keeping Tooth happy...

However, Jamie and Sophie seemed adamant that he eat it all. For the modern experience and also because they didn't want him to be a hobo anymore, they said.

Jack wasn't sure what to think about that last bit, but when he looked into Jamie's pleading brown eyes and Sophie's green ones, he felt his will crumble away.

"...Fine. Just a little bit, though."

Hours later, Bunnymund was very surprised to come across one Jack Frost, passed out at the warren with his face a sickly shade of green and absolutely no memory of how he had gotten there in the first place.

"What the bloody hell happened to you?!"

"Ughhh...please kill me..."

**A/N:**

**I had to. You understand.**

**Well, my own personal canon places Jack's date of birth at December 20, 1694 and his date of death December 15, 1711. That's just me, though. And if the movie takes place in 2012 and Jamie is 14 here, that puts this particular drabble in 2019, also making Jack 325. ****I actually had to bust out a calculator to do all that because I'm terrible even at adding.**

**Oh, a few people wanted to see the tumblr headcanon from last chapter. I can't link it, but I dug through my likes on tumblr and copy-pasted for the convenience of all!**

**"I believe that if Jack needs sleep he will sleep in the snow. Because the snow is so soft and it's more comfortable than sleeping on a tree. He isn't afraid of cold so it's perfectly fine. And it would be funny if the guardians were looking for Jack and he just popped out of a snow." -by yufei on tumblr  
**

**Thank you for reading (and those who showed concern about my arm; it's really fine, just sore and ugly XD) and please review!**

**P.S. The title of this chapter totally came from Wreck-It Ralph. S-U-G-A-R, jump into your racing car, it's Sugar Rush~! Okay I'm done.**


	25. Forcing the City Gates

"Jack, we need to talk."

Naturally, Jack was immediately on edge. He was familiar with the tone of voice Tooth was utilizing, as it was the same one Jamie's mother used on him when she wanted to discuss his grades or some other such thing.

It was the 'You're in trouble and I'm going to chew you out even if I'm not happy about it' voice.

He fidgeted nervously and turned to face the Tooth Fairy, already regretting his earlier choice to visit the Tooth Palace today. Where had his sense of judgement gone?

"If this is about the sugar rush thing, I told you that the kids made me eat that candy," he coughed, "so it wasn't my fault. I didn't even get any cavities; my teeth are fine."

Tooth crossed her arms and Jack noticed for the first time the memory box clenched tightly in her fist. Baby Tooth fluttered her head, matching her mother's stern posture.

"This isn't about the Sugar Rush incident, but it is about teeth," Tooth said, cracking the box open. "Take a look at this."

Jack leaned forward and peered into the box, observing the small, pearly teeth carefully. "I don't really see the issue here, Tooth."

A sigh. "Here." A slim finger directed his attention to a lower corner of the box, and that's when Jack noticed.

There were only twenty-four teeth lined neatly up in the box.

"You see?" Tooth asked, "There's one missing."

"Yeah, I see that. So?"

The fairy narrowed her eyes and stared at him seriously. "Jack. You still have a baby tooth."

There was a beat of silence.

"Uhh..."

"Hand it over."

"Whoa, whoa." Jack raised his hands defensively. "Are you sure you didn't just lose it?"

Tooth and Baby Tooth rolled their eyes simultaneously and Jack couldn't help but be surprised at how catty the two were being at the moment. Tooth collection was serious business, apparently.

"We don't just lose teeth," Tooth said, "so the only explanation is that it's still in your mouth."

Jack subconsciously backed away a few steps. "What if I swallowed it? What do you do when a kid swallows a tooth?"

Baby Tooth mimicked a diving motion and Tooth shuddered delicately. "We go in. You really don't want to know the details." She shook herself. "Stop trying to divert the topic! Give us the tooth, we need it!"

She and her baby began advancing forward, and Jack defensively tightened his grip on his staff.

"First off tell me how you plan on going about this!" he insisted.

Baby Tooth cracked her knuckles and Tooth wordlessly pulled a pair of pliers out of nowhere.

Jack stumbled back a few more feet. "No! Absolutely not! No way! Can't we just wait for it to come out on its own or something?!"

"If it's been in there for over three hundred years I don't think it'll come out on its own," Tooth replied edgily. "I need the tooth, Jack. You need to hand it over."

"I can't just hand it over!"

The pliers clicked in her hand. "Sure you can."

"Don't you dare." Jack positioned his staff defensively. "I'll freeze you solid."

"Maybe so." Tooth grinned wickedly. "But you can't freeze hundreds of fairies, and your morals wouldn't allow for such a thing anyway."

"W-Wha..."

Tooth put her fingers to her mouth and whistled loudly.

Within moments, they were surrounded by a swarm of every fairy in the Tooth Palace, all staring at Jack menacingly.

Their mother pointed dramatically and shouted, "GET HIM!"

**xXx**

Jack had been holed up in his frozen room at Santoff Claussen for the better part of two days, much to North and Phil's confusion. The large Russian wondered if any of the others knew what was wrong, and messages Tooth first as she was the one most likely to know the problem, being the closest to Jack out of all of them.

"...and he hasn't come out. Do you know what the issue might be?"

Tooth's image in the message-snowglobe blurred slightly.

"Oh no," she said innocently. "I have no idea; maybe you should ask Sandy. But honestly, I think he'll get over it soon."

North could tell she was hiding something, but figured it was smarter not to ask.

**A/N:**

**This was a request from the lovely magostar117. I loved the idea and so had to use it, haha. I hope it suited your image :)**

**Thank you for reading and please review!**


	26. Under the Darkness

This was bad.

This was very, very bad.

Jack panted heavily, his staff gripped tightly in his hand as he turned in slow circles, glaring at the advancing Fearlings. They had warned him, the Guardians had been worried and warned him that something like this might happen, and had he listened? No. Because he was a stubborn idiot who still thought of himself as self-sufficient. Now look at him: Pulled out of his deep sleep—it had been a crashing day—by a sudden nightmare and when he opened his eyes he was staring into the hellish glowing sclera of a nightmare horse itself. There wasn't just one, of course; there was practically an army of the monsters.

Such a high number could only mean Pitch was in the area. This wasn't random at all.

A shudder ran up Jack's spine when he thought about how accurate Pitch had been in his timing. He'd picked a day when Jack's guard would be down, when he would be away from the other Guardians, and very low on energy. And as the attack was staged in the middle of the day, there was no Man in the Moon to even offer a little help.

_They had warned him._ The Guardians had told _him_ that Pitch might try to take his revenge, no matter how small. That was why they didn't want him wandering around so much on his own anymore, and why they freaked out whenever he vanished for any amount of time. Even now, Jack was cursing his own stupidity.

He lunged forward and froze a Fearling solid, then spun and impaled another with the butt of his staff. He ducked just in time to avoid getting his face chewed off, and jumped into the air to shower the ones nearest him with ice. They kept at it, lunging forward to take a chunk out of him and being turned into dusty black icicles in return. Then, all of a sudden, the Fearlings dissipated into nothing and to Jack's surprise, the rest soon followed. He lowered himself to the ground and let out a light sigh of relief. They hadn't been fighting very long, twenty minutes at most, but as his crashing day had been interrupted he wasn't at his best. The battle had been rough, for sure. He was sore and exhausted and was fighting the urge to collapse on the spot.

Jack didn't trust the Fearlings' sudden disappearance. There were so many, and they had been so strong, there was no way he'd gotten rid of them all on his own in this weakened state. No, the only person who had the ability to make them all go away was—"

"I must say, you put up a better fight than I had expected."

Jack gasped sharply and spun around, body tensing at the smooth, smarmy voice he so despised. "You!"

"Yes, me," Pitch replied, looking almost bored, his dark form contrasting starkly against the snowy backdrop. "It didn't really take you that long to figure it out, did it?"

"What are you doing here?" Jack snapped, "You want to be blasted into ice?"

"Oh please." The Nightmare King waved a skeletal hand dismissively. "With your condition, you'd hardly do more than frost my clothes a little."

Jack swallowed, but refused to let his fear show. Pitch was right, and this was easily the worst fix he could ever have found himself in. It crossed his mind briefly that they were standing on top of Jack's pond; maybe if he could break the ice somehow and cast Pitch in, and fly off before he could fall in himself? No, that wouldn't work. He made ice, he didn't break it. Besides, the thought of the ice cracking made his stomach churn.

"You know, I'm curious," Pitch continued conversationally. "You're not afraid of my presence at all. No, it's something else..." He paced back and forth, tapping his chin. Jack's hands shook; he had forgotten about the man's ability to know the precise fears of others.

Pitch's grey lips curled into a twisted smile, and suddenly he dropped into shadow and fell out of sight. Jack stumbled back a few steps, struggling to control his shaky breathing.

And then there Pitch was again, right behind him. He grabbed the winter spirit by the hood and lifted him into the air. Jack hollered and in his surprise, dropped his staff. A mantra of _ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap_ ran through his head as Pitch spoke again.

"You're not afraid of me. You're not afraid of not being believed in, or being cast out. You've grown out of those fears." He gestured over the pond, spreading his arms wide. "With the return of your memories, you've gained a new fear."

Jack's heart stopped and terror froze him in place, rendering himself unable to struggle any more as Pitch threw him across the fragile ice. He crashed into the pond and the ice shattered beneath him, sending him into the murky depths.

He was pulled upwards suddenly by the hair, and the last thing he heard before being submerged once more was the wickedly amused whisper of, "Let's see how much fun you have drowning a second time."

And then he was back under several feet and sinking quickly. Jack flailed in the blackness, the water crushing his lungs and hindering his movements. He couldn't swim, he never could, and after learning the details of his death he'd never felt any sort of incentive to learn. That was certainly coming back to bite him now. He tried to push himself upwards, reaching his hand towards the surface in a desperate attempt to find something, anything, to grab onto. His fingernails scraped against the ice covering the pond and his blue eyes widened with horror when he realized that the cracks made when he'd fallen through were solidifying at his touch. He was refreezing the pond from beneath.

Jack didn't have his staff. He was trapped under several inches of thick ice with no way to escape, rapidly running out of stored air, and the memories of his death were flashing back every time he blinked. For all the other Guardians knew, he was sleeping peacefully in a snowbank. It would be another day at least for them to notice anything was wrong. He'd be under the ice for _days,_ possibly longer. He wouldn't die, not anymore, but how much better was the alternative, really?

Jack was terrified.

Black spots began swarming his vision, and he fought against the urge to give in to the darkness. He had to get out, he had to...to...

He couldn't think straight anymore.

Jack's struggles ceased, and with a final release of his stored oxygen, he slipped into the crushing void.

There was no Man in the Moon to pull him out this time.

**A/N:**

**Threw y'all off guard, didn't I? I bet you were expecting another funny. **

**I'm so diabolical it hurts.**

**I'm a soulless monster who regrets absolutely nothing and who's going to have a ball watching you lot freak out in the reviews. Have at it, my lovelies!**


	27. Under the Darkness Part 2

**Hi guys. I know, I know, that was the worst cliffhanger ever, at least by the standards of my writing. I regret nothing. Okies, a few people were confused about a few things so allow me to clear some stuff up before we get started here.**

**One, Jack is not dead. I'm not AIOFanNCRM; I don't have the willpower to kill off a character. Oh, speaking of AIOFanNCRM, she is amazing and I have to thank her for helping me out with some things for the chapter after this one.**

**Two, he's immortal so no he won't die, but in my mind immortals do have to adhere to some forces of nature, like needing oxygen. They may not need to eat or sleep, but they can get hurt and do need to breathe. Basically Jack is floating unconscious under ice. Even if he froze the ice solid...he's still trapped with no air, iceberg or not. Though the image of the Guardians chipping away at a solid pond with like spoons or something is kind of hilarious. **

**Three, I cannot write Pitch. I am very uncomfortable knocking around in his headspace, so this isn't that great. Yeah.**

**Um, I think that's all. We can continue now!**

**xXx**

Pitch observed the reforming ice with mild interest, absently twirling Jack's staff between his long, thin fingers. That had worked out better than he thought; he could feel Jack's terror even through the several inches of ice, though it was ebbing away as the boy's consciousness faded out. Jack had served his purpose well, providing few moments of amusement for the Nightmare King and allowing him the thrill of vengeful success. Though still very weak due to his fall from grace, Pitch couldn't help but be impressed with his own handiwork. Jack had been all but frozen in undiluted fear.

Pitch paused, thinking. If there was one thing he and the winter spirit had in common (as much as he loathed to admit it) it was that they both detested boredom, and Pitch wasn't ready to relinquish his feeling of elation just yet. So what could he do? How could he continue to toy with Jack and the Guardians?

The staff was dark and lifeless in his hands, and somehow that gave Pitch an idea. His inhuman features twisted into something akin to a feral smile at the thought and a low chuckle rose in his throat.

He'd already paid Jack a visit today. Santoff Clausen was a full day's travel away without a portal, but why not extend the courtesy to the other Guardians?

It wasn't as though Jack was going anywhere, after all.

**xXx**

North was actually having a pretty good day. The elves weren't being annoying, scampering around underfoot, he was getting quite a lot of work done (it was getting closer and closer to Christmas, so this really was a good thing) and was just overall in a downright jolly mood. He hadn't seen any of the other Guardians in the past few days, but as Christmas was a mere two weeks away, he was actually grateful to them for keeping their distance.

The Russian man whistled cheerfully as he tied a bow on a particularly large gift. Though the yetis were the ones who usually did most of the work around the workshop, particularly mundane things like wrapping, North did like to take some of it upon himself every so often.

Everything was going perfectly up until Phil burst in yammering something in Yetish.

Again.

"Calm down, calm down!" North snapped, waving his hands to get the yeti to shut up. "What is the big problem? It is the second time you have done this!"

Phil let out a long string of garbled language that North could only partly decipher, but the bits he could pick out made his stomach drop.

Pitch.

He slammed a massive fist into his desk. "Where?!"

More Yetish.

"_Out front?!"_ North immediately grabbed his sabers. "Why do you never tell me these things until too late?!"

Phil could only shrug helplessly as he followed his boss outside to the gates of Santoff Clausen where, surely enough, a black-clad figure was clearly distinguishable against the snow. Pitch seemed nonthreatening enough, but North had enough experience with the Nightmare King to know not to be fooled for an instant. His hands were folded behind his back and he looked at the imposing man with nothing more than mild contempt.

"And what do you think you are doing here?" North demanded, sabers at the ready. Pitch rolled his grey-gold eyes before responding.

"I suppose you welcoming me with open arms and a red carpet was too much to expect," he said dryly.

"If you care for your head at all you will state your business then leave," North growled. He was definitely not in the mood to deal with Pitch right now, not this close to Christmas and definitely not when he thought he was finally rid of the bastard. A sense of unease curled in his stomach; there was no way this was just a random visit. Pitch had a purpose.

"Always so dramatic," Pitch sighed. "I suppose in that case I had better get to the point." A wicked smirk briefly crossed his face and with a smooth flick of his wrist he tossed something in North's direction. At first glance it appeared to be two sticks of generally equal length, but closer inspection showed them to be—

North paled and his eyes widened as he realized what Pitch had just dropped at his feet.

Jack's staff. What was left of it, anyway. It had been snapped cleanly in half, the aged wood dark and splintered without any of its usual frost patterns. It looked dead.

"What did you do?!" he choked out, trembling in fury. The thought that Pitch had gotten his hands on Jack and hurt him badly enough to get the staff away from him was terrifying and filled him with rage.

Pitch spread his arms affably. "Oh, nothing really. I was just in the area and noticed a curious thing—it is odd that he likes to sleep in snowbanks, isn't it? particularly near that pond..."

North remained silent, processing the information. There was no way Pitch had 'just been in the area.' No, he had specifically targeted Jack on a day he would be at his most vulnerable.

Pitch smiled. He knew he couldn't physically attack North the way he had attacked Jack. Hell, on a normal day he wouldn't have been able to take Jack out at all, let alone the large, bulky Russian. That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the feeling of watching North edge closer to panic mode. He was barely suppressing his fear, and Pitch loved it. Soon enough, he'd be getting the same reaction from the other three Guardians.

"Get to the point," North said, struggling to remain calm long enough to find out what happened. _"What did you do?"_

The next words the Nightmare King spoke chilled his blood.

"Jack Frost really does not like water, does he?"

Taking advantage of North's still, horrified reaction, Pitch laughed out loud and turned into black sand, taking off into the sky and vanishing without a trace, leaving the two broken halves of Jack's staff behind.

**A/N:**

**Um. Um. This is going to be a three-parter, evidently. It was going to be one big long chapter...but then... I got an entire four and a half hours of sleep last night (I had some crazy dream and couldn't get back to sleep) and while I felt oddly awesome during the day, I started to crash around six p.m. **

**I was very much amused by all of your reactions to the last chapter. Especially when Alluring Alliteration asked if I was Satan, that one was my favorite. And my own little sister told me she hated me for what I pulled, haha. It all put me in a really good mood.**

**In short, I spent the evening reveling in and soaking up all your guys' misery like some kind of demonic sponge. **

**Faithful Reader, thanks for asking! I try to update every day, I was just really tired yesterday and had some other stuff to do, so I couldn't post this till just now. I skip days sometimes, but I always make up for it by posting multiple chapters the next day. **

**I apologize for the amount of Hatsu-prattle in this chapter. I'll stop now.**

**Thank you for reading and please review!**


	28. Under the Darkness Part 3

**Some more Q&A really quick.**

**Jack was weakened because his crashing day, which is when he rests up and replenishes his energy, was interrupted. He didn't have the strength or energy to put up a badass fight like normal.**

**Pitch just gave North free information and the staff because a) he knows he can't take North in a straight fight should it come down to that, so it's easier for him if he just gets to the point and gets out of there, and b) he's a troll. In the movie, when he broke Jack's staff, a smart villain wouldn't have tossed it back down whether he knew Jack would have been able to fix it or not. If there's a fifty-fifty chance, you should take the safe route and **_**not return the conduit of the hero's power back to the hero. **_**Pitch should have taken the staff with him, or at least left it up above the ravine where Jack couldn't get it. But he didn't, and that's because he was gloating. He's so self-centered he has to rub in his victory at every opportunity, logic be damned. **

**... I understand Pitch a little too well, don't I?**

**When can I be crowned the Queen of All Evil?**

***cough* Anyway... sorry for all the scene transitions. I was hurrying.**

**xXx**

"_Jack Frost really does not like water, does he?"_

As soon as Pitch vanished in a gust of black sand and frigid wind, the pieces clicked into place in North's mind. Water. Pitch had caught the winter spirit near his pond, overpowered him at his weakest point, then stole his staff and cast him under. By all indication, Jack was still submerged.

Jack had a self-admitted fear of water, all the Guardians knew that. After the final battle with Pitch the previous Easter, he'd begun to open up to them little by little, and had slowly told them about what he had discovered from his memory box. He'd stuttered and fallen silent more than once whilst retelling the story of his death, and as soon as he was finished describing what had happened he blurted out, "And I really don't like water now and nobody's allowed to make fun of me for it."

Nobody had, not even Bunnymund. After all, who would dream of tormenting somebody with memories of their own death? Jack had a fear of drowning. That was understandable, and the other Guardians had all been dead set on not letting the ordeal bother him too much.

Well, so much for that idea.

North couldn't even imagine what Jack must have gone through as he was thrown into the water. He couldn't imagine the fear, panic, and desperation the youngest immortal could have felt. One thing was for sure: They had to get him out as soon as possible. He gathered up the broken remains of the boy's staff and hurried back into the workshop, snapping at a few yetis to prepare the sleigh immediately. Rushing into the globe room, he didn't waste any time in sending out the borealis signal, summoning the other Guardians to the pole immediately.

**xXx**

"Pitch did _WHAT?!"_

Never once had the other three Guardians seen Tooth so angry, not even when the aforementioned Nightmare King had stolen her fairies and the children's' teeth. Tooth was all but screaming in fury, feathers quivering and her face a brilliant shade of red. Her small hands clenched into fists at her side.

"_I'm going to kill him!"_

"Tooth—"

"I will rip every hair off his head and then _shove him into ice and see how he likes it!"_

"Tooth!"

"_What?!"_

North took a deep breath. "I understand how you feel. I feel the same way. But right now we need to focus on Jack."

Sandman nodded in agreement, fidgeting with apprehension.

"That's right," Bunnymund chipped in. "I'm sure he doesn't want to be down there any longer. It's best to get Frostbite back first, you can mother him all you want, and then we can focus on Pitch, alright?"

Tooth took a deep breath, steadying herself. Baby Tooth fluttered around her head, mismatched eyes filled with worry. "You're right, you're right. I'm sorry..."

North clapped her on the shoulder, nearly causing her to drop to the ground, and said, "Bunny, take your tunnels if you want to. The rest of us will go by sleigh."

The Pooka nodded. "Fine by me. I'll see you in Burgess." He tapped his feet against the floor and a tunnel opened up. He saluted and dropped down, leaving the other three to hurry to the sleigh and take off for Jack's hometown.

**xXx**

Jack was in the pond, alright. They knew he was there, but actually locating the winter spirit was another story. The pond was completely covered over in ice, along with a light dusting of snow, and his body was nowhere in sight when they cleared it off. The Guardians needed to have Tooth and Sandy—the only two capable of independent flight, and thus the only two who could retrieve Jack without falling in themselves—break the ice and dive down to search for him.

It took half an hour. Jack had sunken all the way to the bottom where no light reached, and Tooth nearly had a heart attack as she was groping around in the darkness, a dim light provided by Sandy, when suddenly there he was.

She wasted no time in grabbing his hoodie and having Sandy help drag him to the surface, and North and Bunnymund assisted in pulling him out when they reached shore. Jack looked...cold, which was nothing strange except for now, and lifeless. His face was tinted a pale shade of blue and he lay completely motionless on the snowy ground, not so much as breathing.

"So what do we do?" Bunnymund asked softly, as though he feared that speaking too loudly would cause the worst. "He's not breathing. How do we—"

"Move," Tooth directed, pushing him aside. She knelt on the ground next to Jack, and after a moment of hesitation, pressed her mouth against his.

"...Oh," Bunnymund blinked. "Um. Wow."

Tooth inhaled into Jack's lungs and, when she came up for more air, shot the rabbit a dirty look before assuming the CPR position. She pressed on his chest a few times, gave him more air, and did it again. After about five rounds, his eyes flew open and he rolled over onto his side, vomiting up an impossible amount of water before passing out again.

The Guardians froze, and then let out a sigh of relief when they saw his chest faintly rising and falling. There was probably a lot more water in his system that needed dispelling, but they had done what they could. The rest would be up to him. They loaded into the sleigh and took off back to Santoff Clausen. Tooth's face burned red the whole ride there.

**xXx**

Everything hurt. Everything was sore and felt far too heavy and far too hot. A sharp stab of pain burst in his chest every time Jack took a breath, and his eyes felt like they were glued shut. His mouth and throat ached terribly. Jack groaned as he became fully aware of all the pain he was in. What had happened...?

Then he noticed the voices. They were dim, like he was listening through a wall or faulty telephone, but they still managed to make his head ache.

"...shut up, shut up, Bunny! He's waking up!"

"He made a noise, that's all, he's made noises for the past two bloody days—"

"Be quiet," Jack moaned, his voice rough and breath rattling in his throat like sandpaper. He forced his arm up and covered his eyes.

"... I take back what I said."

"Jack?" someone said, and he thought it sounded like Tooth. "How are you?"

"Mmm..." was all he managed. "I don't feel good." Jack doubted he'd ever been more honest in his life.

Someone, probably Bunnymund, laughed and said, "Hear that? He'll be fine."

Tooth ignored him. "Can you open your eyes?"

Jack tried, cracking his eyes open. He was immediately assaulted by a blinding light, and squeezed them shut again, shaking his head.

She sighed, and he felt her hand stroke his hair. It felt nice. At least, it didn't hurt. He forced himself to speak, "What happened?"

He heard North now. "You don't remember? Pitch, he..."

Pitch.

Jack's eyes flew open and he jackknifed into a sitting position as the memories came flooding back. Pitch had attacked him, and won. Pitch had taken his staff and thrown him into the pond. The sound of the ice cracking echoed in his ears and suddenly, Jack found himself shaking uncontrollably.

The ice. The water. The darkness and lack of air. The feeling of helplessness as he sank down and down, until everything faded out entirely... His teeth were chattering now and he slumped down, curling in on himself as all his momentary strength left him.

Tooth was at his side in an instant, petting his hair, rubbing his arms, and murmuring condolences. "It's okay, you're okay. You're fine. Jack, listen. _You're fine."_

He could barely hear her, but the sound of her voice seemed to soothe his nerves and he calmed down slightly, allowing her to wrap her arms around his shoulders and pull him into an embrace.

"You're fine," she said again gently. "There's nothing to be scared of. We're here. Everything's okay."

_We're here._

Jack looked around the room—it was his room, at Santoff Clausen—and noticed the others for the first time. Sandy was giving him a silent thumbs up. North was looking torn between staying where he was and moving closer to join the hug himself. Bunnymund was leaning against the wall trying to pretend that he wasn't concerned or relieved in the slightest.

They were there. Everything was okay. He hadn't drowned and died. The memory of the crushing darkness was still fresh in his mind, and Jack was sure it would take some time to get over, but for right now he didn't have anything to worry about. His family was with him.

Family, huh?

Jack raised his aching arms and wrapped them around Tooth's middle, burying his face in his shoulder as he tried to suppress the stinging tears in his eyes. She stroked his back soothingly.

"Thank you."

**A/N:**

**Ugh. UGH. That was weak. God dang it.**

**The Under the Darkness arc has concluded! I'm glad (and hoped) you guys liked it! Regular chapters coming right up!**

**Your Queen is relieved that things will now be going back to normal and she can continue posting random-ass chapters will no sense of continuity nor regard for the emotions of others. **

**May I just say, I have been overwhelmed by the amount of attention this story has been getting. Seriously you guys, I love you all so frickin' much. You have no idea. Thank you all so much.**

**Well, tomorrow I shall go back to updating like a madwoman! Of course I got hit with a ton of inspiration right in the middle of an arc. Look forward to it!**


	29. Role Reversal

Jamie wasn't certain of the point in time when he realized that he was taller than Jack. When he was young, the winter spirit always seemed so big. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Jack's feet rarely touched the ground. He was either floating on the wind or balancing on his staff. And when he did stand up straight, Jamie had always several inches shorter.

He had always been a pretty small boy, but hit a growth spurt in his late teens that suddenly shot him upwards, leaving him towering awkwardly over the other kids his age. Now, Jamie was an adult and had filled out just enough for his height to look natural. However, it seemed like his kids had inherited the short gene. Sammy, the oldest, was barely five feet tall at age twelve, and his three younger siblings (Carly, Benjamin, and Matthew) weren't fairing much better. All four of them were twigs, too.

Jamie was sitting outside watching his children play in the snow with Jack, who had taken on the role of a big brother/babysitter, just as he had when Jamie was young. As five-year-old Mattie dumped a handful of snow over ten-year-old Carly's messy blonde hair, the thought came out of nowhere that Jack wasn't much taller than any of them.

Well, he still had a quite a few good inches on Ben and Mattie, but the point still stood.

Jamie had been noticing this for a while, actually. He'd taken note of the fact that he now had to look down to see the winter spirit eye-to-eye, and Jack looked about half his weight. Jack wasn't even average height for someone who claimed to be seventeen. He was less than five and a half feet tall, that was for sure and probably weighed less than a hundred and ten pounds. All in all, he wasn't very big. Jack was downright _small. _

He wondered why this was. Well, Jack's date of birth was 1694. People back then were smaller, weren't they? But the males surely weren't that tiny. Jamie shook his head, confused, not even distracted by Carly's indignant shriek as her brothers pushed her into a snowbank. Why was he even thinking about this so much?

"You know, if you frown too much, your face will end up stuck like that," Jamie heard someone say. He looked up to see Jack leaning casually on his staff, looking down on him amusedly.

"What do I do when that happens?" the man replied conversationally. "I'd hate for my face to be stuck like that forever."

Jack just shrugged. "I dunno. I'm not an expert on unfreezing things." He plopped down on the porch next to his friend. "Seriously though, what are you thinking about?"

"Nothing much in particular. Just spacing out." Jamie had a feeling that Jack would make fun of him if he broached the real subject, and wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.

The winter spirit snorted. "Yeah, you do that a lot. And here I thought adults were supposed to be the level-headed ones. Well, I'm not an expert on you people either, so I'll let it go."

"'You people,'" Jamie laughed. "I see how it is."

"Good." Jack stood and brushed off his pants. "Hey, your daughter's over there getting ready to plow the boys into the ground. Wanna help out?"

Jamie sighed. "No, I'd better go break it up." He stood as well and stretched his arms. "They need to be more careful."

As they walked back to the section of the yard where Carly was burying Sammy's face into the ground, it occurred to him that he used to be the one that went along with altercations like this, and Jack was the one who would tell him and Sophie to be careful.

Apparently height wasn't the only thing that had changed between them. Jamie couldn't help but wonder when he switched places with Jack as the more mature one. Well, maybe not more mature (Jack _did_ have a good three and a half centuries on him in terms of age) but more... level-headed, as the winter spirit had put it.

Then again, Jamie was an adult who still believed in Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny, so he wasn't really one to talk.

**A/N:**

**So...**

**Jamie's kids. I got the name Sammy from Twisted Skys (hi Skys *waves*) and just sort of winged the others. I doubt they'll turn up again, but the name Carly is relevant only to me and one other person XD **

**Anyway, I saw a post on tumblr hypothesizing about the heights of the characters and made the guess that Jack was five feet tall. That's tiny! Well, I'm five-foot-nine, so a lot of heights are small to me, but jeez! He's such a twig, too. Jack, when Hatsu-the-sixteen-year-old-girl has more than half a foot on you, you need to grow just a little...**

**Also, I've been sort of fixated on Jamie and Sophie lately, so a few chapters in the near future will focus on them a bit. There'll also be a Sandman thrown in, because there is a disheartening lack of Sandman in this story as of late. There's a disheartening lack of Sandman in the fandom proper, but I digress.**

**Thank you for reading and please review! **


	30. Birthday Present

It was not unusual for all sorts of competitions to spring up between Jack and Bunnymund. That was the norm, actually; the two fought over pretty much everything. But the oddest competition they had that had sprung up in recent years was who could get Sophie the best present for her birthday. In short, it was essentially a battle for affection.

Sophie was blissfully ignorant of said competition, and just loved both of them equally. Sure, maybe she did see Jack more on a day-to-day basis, but Bunnymund was also the one she went to when she needed help with things. She always liked whatever the two got her—she always liked whatever she received from each of the Guardians individually during her birthday parties at the Tooth Palace.

Jack knew that. Bunnymund knew that. It just didn't stop them from trying.

And now, Bunnymund was determined to put a stop to it once and for all.

"Alright, ankle biter," he said, plopping Sophie down on an egg statue in the Warren. "I got something for your birthday."

"It's a day late," she pointed out bluntly, though she smiled. She wasn't complaining, just stating a fact, but it still made Bunnymund feel uncomfortable.

"Yes, well..." he coughed awkwardly. "I had to get it ready. Anyway." He held out a little box in the shape of an Easter egg. "You're ten years old now, so I figure you're old enough to be responsible with this."

Sophie reached for the box, but Bunnymund held it away. "Now hold on, I'm not done. Calm down, missy."

She giggled and squirmed in her seat. "Keep going, then!"

"Right. You know how you can only hang out here if I come get you?"

Sophie nodded.

"Well..." With that, he handed the box over. She tore it open and pulled out a tiny snowglobe on a chain, with a picturesque image of the Warren visible inside.

Sophie blinked. "What is it?"

"It's one of North's snow globe portals," the Pooka explained. "It's one of the smaller ones that only take you to one place and one place only. The bigger ones go all over."

The girl's face lit up like a Christmas light. "So I can come here whenever I want to now?"

"That's right." Bunnymund ruffled her hair. "If you ever need anything, or just need some company, you come straight here. Got it, mate?"

She let out a thrilled squeal and lunged forward to hug Bunnymund around the neck. He stumbled back, surprised at the sudden contact, before wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off her feet.

"Happy birthday, ankle biter."

He was glad Sophie liked her present so much, and he was secretly glad that she would be over more often. He needed some company that wasn't Jack Frost being annoying or the silent egg golems, and Bunnymund definitely was closer to Sophie than the others. He knew she was considered strange and that she didn't have a lot of friends, so it would be good to be there for her whenever needed. In a way, it was similar to his relationship with Jack; alleviate the loneliness whenever the lonely person in question needed it. All in all, he was happy.

But the small, vindictive part of him couldn't help but think, _Let's see Frostbite try and beat this._

**A/N:**

**I caught a cold D: It's not so bad now, just a little sore throat, but my luck with this kind of stuff is terrible and it's just going to get worse. Blah. If I'm sick on Christmas I'm going to be so pissed. That actually happened to me once, years ago. It was terrible. **

**Anyway, I don't really feel like writing my own ideas right now. I'll get the Sandy chapter out soon, no worries, but until then are there any suggestions/requests? I do have one involved Jack and Bunnymund, and I'll do that soon too, I'm just in need of some cannon fodder.**

**Also, hehehe. Can we get to 900 reviews with this one? Let's try!**

**Thank you for reading and please review!**


	31. Sweet and Muddy Success

Jack conceded defeat. He had tried everything to beat Bunnymund's snowglobe gift, but eventually came to realize that it was the best thing Sophie ever could have gotten. It didn't take much for him to realize that, either.

"I give up," he said to Bunnymund, gently pushing the muddy and sobbing Sophie forward. Those were words the Pooka never expected to hear out of Jack's mouth, but there they were, and he had bigger things to focus on right now. He hurried up to Sophie, who bravely tried to dry her eyes and greet him with a smile.

"What happened?" he demanded, wiping dirt and tears off of the girl's face.

"Bullies happened," Jack replied for her, as she seemed to be too distraught to speak. "I got them to leave her alone, not that they knew it was me, but not before..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't get there fast enough and when I did she was already like this."

"I'm f-fine," Sophie stammered, attempting to fix her perpetual rats' nest of hair. "Just a little m-muddy...it's okay..."

Jack's eyes darkened. "It's not okay. How long has this been going on?"

"What happened then?" Bunnymund asked, lifting Sophie up to sit her down on one of the egg statues. She sniffled and rubbed her nose, a few more tears streaking down her cheeks.

"I tried to calm her down, but all she wanted was to come here so we used the snowglobe and hopped over." Jack rubbed his eyes. "I fail. And here I thought I was good at talking to kids. And so, like I said, I give up."

Bunnymund raised his eyebrows. "Give up what?"

"The present thing. Yours was obviously the best." Jack shrugged and tried not to look too embarrassed. He hated losing competitions. "Anyway, that's not important right now."

"Right, right." The two turned back to Sophie, who hadn't been paying attention to the previous exchange at all. "How you feeling, ankle biter?"

"'M okay," she mumbled, then sighed. "Jamie's gonna be mad. He said if they ever bothered me again he was gonna get Jack to mess them up."

Jack grinned. "I think I came through on that end. But you didn't answer the question from before. How long's this been happening?"

"Couple weeks," Sophie said quietly. "A few of the older kids are making fun of me because I still believe in you guys." She began to cry again. "It's not fair! How come everyone can't just accept that you exist? 'Cause you do!" She huffed irritably, "People are stupid."

Jack gaped at the little girl. "You're more upset at the fact that they don't believe in us than the fact that they shoved you into a mud puddle?"

She blinked at him in innocent confusion. "Well, doesn't it hurt when people don't believe in you? I think it's really sad."

Jack, stunned, kept his mouth shut and stepped back to let Bunnymund take the reins before he could say something that would upset both of them.

"Okay listen," the Pooka said, leaning down to look her in the eyes. "Don't worry about us. We can take care of ourselves just fine, mate. Have a little faith." He smiled at her and waited until she gave a watery smile in return before continuing. "We're worried about you right now; don't let it be the other way around. Kids stop believing all the time. That's just the way it is. Understand?"

Sophie's chin quivered but, after a moment's hesitation, she nodded. "Yes."

"Good." Bunnymund ruffled her hair. "Now, let's talk about you. Don't let those kids get to you, alright? Just run away whenever you see them. Go find your brother, or Jack, or better yet, come straight here. You can paint some eggs."

Sophie nodded again and she smiled genuinely this time around. "Okay, I got it."

"Good." Bunnymund straightened up and held out his hand for her to take. She did and hopped off the statue, hugging him, then Jack, around the waist. "You ready to go home?"

"Actually..." She fidgeted, and then looked up at him with wide puppy eyes. "Can I stay here for a little bit? I wanna make sure they're gone before I go home."

Bunnymund laughed. "Of course you can. C'mon, I have some jobs for you to do."

As he took Sophie's hand and led her further into the Warren, he called back to Jack, "If you keep gaping like that eventually a swarm of insects will make your mouth their home."

Jack's jaw audibly snapped shut and he called back in response, "Your success with this makes no sense to me!"

Bunnymund chuckled to himself, helping to steady Sophie when she tripped over a tree root. She clung to his arm and rested her head against his elbow.

Oh yes, it felt good to be the winner for once.

**A/N:**

**You guys have no idea how much it bugged me that I was unable to post updates for two days straight. My cold took a bit of a turn for the worse so Sunday I was trying to sleep off a fever and Monday I stayed home from school due to all my health issues. I'm home again today too, actually, but I felt better this morning (what magic is NyQuil made of?) so I snuck out to go to the library and post this stuff. Gah, I'm sorry it took so long though D: In any case, thanks for being patient. Till next time!**


	32. Paradoxical Warmth

Jack gazed sadly down at the little shivering fairy in his hands. Baby Tooth was in a bad state, and he wasn't faring much better. Slamming into a glacier and being cast into a ravine tended to do that to people, and the fact that his staff was broken and it had physically pained him wasn't helping.

He desperately wanted to help Baby Tooth. If he didn't do something quick, then she would easily freeze to death in the sub-degree Antarctic temperatures. She let out a high-pitched sneeze and stared up at him as though asking for help, and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "All I can do is keep you cold."

It was true. Jack had tried to warm people up in the past, to no avail. His powers had always spelled the end for the victim of his frigid chill. No matter how often he tried to convince himself it wasn't his fault, that deathly winters would come whether he was there to do it or not, that it wasn't his fault that the seasons had to change, the back of his mind always knew that was wrong. He was winter. While the winter death toll had declined to near non-existence in recent years due to the invention of electricity and heaters, the season was still feared for a reason. Winter meant death. It always had.

And Jack was the one who brought it.

Sometimes, in the past, he would see people lying in the streets at night in the dead of winter, suffering because of his power. He hated it. But no matter how many times he tried to warm people up, desperately trying to correct his mistakes, it just didn't work. That wasn't how his body or his powers worked. If they did warm up in his presence, then that meant they were gone. The only thing he could do was keep a safe distance and provide the illusion of warmth. Now, if he tried to do the same to Baby Tooth, she'd be lost forever.

He sank down onto his knees with a heavy sigh, cradling the fairy in his hands. "Pitch was right..." he breathed.

"I make a mess of everything."

**A/N:**

**Paradoxical warmth is the comforting warmth you feel just before you freeze to death. It's a difficult concept to translate into writing, and especially RotG terms, so I'm not sure how well I like this one. It makes sense that Jack would want to try and warm people—those he ended up accidentally hurting with his winters—only accomplishing it too late and inadvertently killing them instead.**

**...this is what happens when I'm sick. Weird stuff gets written. It made sense in my head!**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	33. Reconciliation

Jamie yelped in shock as the snowball hit its target and ended up knocking his head against the window frame. He fell backwards, attempting to soothe the throbbing pain in his cranium and wipe snow out of his eyes at the same time. He tripped over the rug on his floor and collapsed backwards onto his bed, melting snow streaming into his hair.

"Funny," he groaned, "Real funny."

Melodic laughter drifted through the window, and a voice he suddenly realized he missed desperately said, "In my defense, I didn't think you'd react like that."

Jamie sat up, massaging his skull and looking around for the culprit. As sudden and gut-wrenching as a kick to the stomach, he saw the familiar, quirky grin and ice-blue eyes of his best friend staring back at him.

The grin on Jack's face faded when they made eye contact, and he swallowed nervously, adjusting the grip on his staff. "Uh...hey Jamie."

"...Hey," Jamie breathed back. "Been a while."

"Over half a year," the winter spirit replied, keeping his balance on the windowsill and making no attempt to move forward. He almost seemed afraid to come inside, as though he feared that Jamie's newfound belief would disappear as quickly as it had before. "Half a year isn't so long."

But the look on his face told Jamie that it had seemed like an eternity to Jack. It felt like an eternity to him now, too.

Jamie shifted uncomfortably. "Jack... I'm so sorry. I—"

Jack held up a pale hand, halting Jamie's apologetic words. "Don't. I don't need to hear it. It's not a big deal."

The boy frowned at the obvious lie. Of course it had been a big deal to Jack; the winter spirit had outright admitted to him, a year or so ago, that being ignored for as long as he had was one of the most painful things he had to endure, and that being walked through physically hurt. His stomach dropped as he wondered if he had ever walked through Jack himself.

Jamie's fists clenched at his side. "It is a big deal. Don't lie. You told me I was the first person to ever believe in you, and then I just stopped. There's no way that wasn't upsetting." He took a few steadying breaths in an attempt to calm his nerves. "You never deserved that, and you especially deserved more from me. So, I'm sorry. That's all I can say, because there's no way I can make up for it."

Ashamed, he turned his gaze away from the window, a heavy weight in his chest. The room fell silent for a long moment, and Jamie didn't hear Jack slide off the windowsill and walk over to him until the spirit's cold hands were gripping his shoulders, turning the boy to face him.

Jack's icy eyes bored into Jamie's brown ones. "Listen to me. I'm telling the truth now. Yes, it was painful. I won't lie about that. But hey, guess what? People stop believing all the time. Fact of life. It was only a matter of time before it happened to you, whether Sophie and I liked to admit it or not."

"But—"

"Nope." Jack cut him off with a playful glare. "I'm not done talking. Yes, it hurt. I was upset about it. I made it storm in Finland for days then passed out in the Arctic Circle. It wasn't fun." He released Jamie's shoulders and straightened up, and the eighteen-year-old noticed for the first time that he was taller than Jack. "None of that matters now. Know why?"

Jamie hesitated, and then asked, "Why?"

Jack spread his arms dramatically. "Because you believe again!" He laughed despite himself.

After a moment, Jamie began to laugh too. "Okay, I see your point. Doesn't mean I'm not still sorry, though."

Jack snorted. "You're too stubborn for your own good."

"Maybe so. Hey, you should stick around here for a while before going off to do whatever it is you do during the holidays. We need to have a snowball fight."

"Hm?" Jack blinked in confusion. "I thought you outgrew snowball fights like two years ago."

"Well, yes and no." Jamie casually examined his fingernails. "I want to have this one. I owe you some payback for the snowball a few minutes ago."

"Oh?" Jack smirked. "You want to take on the full-blown Spirit of Winter in a snowball fight, just for a little petty revenge?"

"I'm on the baseball team," Jamie challenged. "I have pretty amazing aim. Wanna bet on it?"

Jack smiled genuinely then. It wasn't the smile that he used when he was covering up pain, or the one he used to aggravate people when he was being sarcastic. This one was honest and real and Jamie could see that he was more relieved in the boy's newfound belief than he let on.

The winter spirit opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a sudden throat-clearing coming from the doorway.

The two boys turned to see Sophie leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and looking amazingly smug. She completely ignored Jamie and instead said to Jack, "I told you it would work."

**A/N:**

**I can't believe I forgot to mention this in the last couple chapters, but I got a fan art! SOMEONE ACTUALLY DREW ME A FAN ART, THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED! *runs around flailing* FEELS. FEELS. Cyric Nox drew bookworm!Jack. It's amaaazing. You can find it on deviantART, under the username EasilySwayed. Go look because it is perfection; we like bookworm!Jack a lot here don't we? Thank you so much, Cyric Nox! **


	34. Retribution

**This is a little extension of Under the Darkness. Thanks to Soului for reminding me that I should probably clear up the fact that it's an extension beforehand to avoid confusion.**

**xXx**

It took Jack a few minutes to be able to calm down enough to fall asleep again. He was still exhausted and in a fair amount of pain from being submerged for so long, and would definitely need a few more days of bed rest until his body would be back to its normal functions, and an indefinite amount of time before his mind had repaired the trauma.

The Guardians were understandably angry.

It surprised a few of them—North and Bunnymund in particular—just how protective they had become of their newest member. The fact that Pitch had managed to hurt Jack so badly, and even worse in a psychological sense, incensed them to no end.

So, after Jack fell asleep and the Guardians made sure he was being safely and securely guarded by the yetis, they went off searching for the Nightmare King. There was a score to settle. It wasn't difficult to locate Pitch's lair. The fact that it lay outside of Burgess had been common knowledge, courtesy of Jack, since the man's downfall. Considering his current weakened state, it was a safe bet that Pitch would be hiding out in his little heart of darkness.

It took even less time to dive down, locate the Nightmare King, and for Tooth to punch his lights out by way of greeting.

Pitch clearly hadn't been expecting them. Not so soon, at least. He stumbled back, bracing himself against his globe, and stared up at the fairy in shock.

"Don't tell me you didn't see it coming eventually," Tooth hissed, eyes narrowed menacingly as she massaged her small fist.

Pitch straightened up, rubbing his jaw. "Personally I expected you to take a bit longer."

"I hope you're a bit more worried about your own skin now," Bunnymund growled from the shadows before stepping into the light, followed by North and Sandy. Pitch's grey-gold eyes widened slightly in surprise and for the first time he looked a bit nervous.

He covered his anxiety up well, however, and said, "Now, can you really blame me? What were you all expecting, that I would just lie down and take my defeat with grace?" He laughed humorlessly, the coldness of his tone making Tooth's skin crawl.

She cracked her knuckles. "And you thought we would just leave the matter alone?" She grinned, but there was fury glinting in her eyes. Twirling a coin around her fingers, she added, "My only regret is that I didn't bring enough quarters for all the teeth you're going to have knocked out today."

Pitch looked to each of them individually. Tooth was grinning like a madwoman, North was stoically serious, Bunnymund was glaring and pulling out his boomerangs, and the Sandman was smiling like he was about to have the time of his life. He swallowed, but allowed his features to twist into a malicious smirk.

"May the best man win, then."

"Oh, don't worry," Bunnymund chuckled. "We plan to."

**A/N:**

**I can't describe any more without things getting horribly OOC ._.**

**Guyyyys. Guys. We broke 1000 reviews, and also 500 favorites.**

**You guys make me feel so special and beautiful I really cannot thank you enough. Gwaaah internet hugs all around :D**


	35. Delirium

Bunnymund gaped down at the winter spirit lying at his feet. "And exactly what are you doing here, Frostbite?"

Jack coughed and rolled over onto his back, trying to pull off his hoodie at the same time. After a bit of struggling, he succeeded, revealing a plain white T-shirt underneath. The lack of the hoodie only served to make Jack look smaller and paler. Or, as much as he could possibly get. Though at the moment Jack honestly wasn't looking that pale; his face was flushed pink and he was breathing heavily.

"Your place was closest," he panted, wiping sweat from his brow.

Bunnymund raised his eyebrows. "And where exactly are you coming from?"

"Botswana."

Huh. Jack had a point; the Warren, as it was located in Australia, was technically the closest location. Tooth's palace was above India, Santoff Clausen was, of course, in the North Pole, and nobody really knew if Sandy had a permanent home. The Guardians just hypothesized he slept on clouds of his own creation or something.

The Pooka sighed. Why him? "What were you doing on southern Africa, mate? Not exactly winter season down there."

Jack's arm, which had been shading his eyes from the Australian sun, flopped back to the ground with a dull thump. "I wanted to see the desert."

"Why is that?"

His ice-blue eyes cracked open and he glared at Bunnymund, "Hey, I'm allowed to be a tourist sometimes, too."

"Never said you weren't." Bunnymund raised his paws defensively. The kid really was snappish at the moment. "So what happened? You look like you're about to melt."

"Once again, your powers of observation..." Jack let out a heavy breath, evidently deciding the snark wasn't worth the effort. "I went at night, because the desert's supposed to be freezing at night. I guess I got so wrapped up in what I was doing I didn't notice the sun coming up. I didn't get out fast enough. This was the closest place, so I came here."

"I was going to say that if you were looking to beat the heat, here was not the best place you could have picked," Bunnymund quipped.

"So can I just sort of...sleep here for a while?"

"No bloody way. You think I want to spend my off-season free time babysitting you?"

"Oh, come on! It's not like I can move anywhere else!" Jack's voice pitched in desperation, and Bunnymund almost laughed out loud.

"I'm just messin' with ya, mate. I honestly don't care."

He did chuckle, however, when Jack grabbed his staff and rolled like a worm into the shade and appeared to immediately fall asleep. The Pooka rolled his eyes and turned to leave Jack to his business and go about his own, until the boy called out, "Hey."

He looked over his shoulder, "What?"

"Thanks."

Bunnymund shrugged. "It's no problem. It's not like we're bitter enemies anymore, not that we ever really were. You crashing here isn't a personal offense."

Jack muttered his reply so softly Bunnymund could barely hear him. "You never used to be this accommodating."

"Well, we're partners now, aren't we?"

"...weird. I didn't think you actually liked me so much."

This caught Bunnymund's attention, and he crouched down by the winter spirit to feel his forehead. "Exactly how bad is your fever?"

Jack batted his paw away with a scowl. "I'm serious. You used to hate me. I guess I never really gave you much incentive to like me, all things considered, but still. I got the impression that we were just...business associates or something."

This was the moment Bunnymund realized that Jack's fever was worse than he had initially thought. He knew Jack would never say anything like this on his own volition, being too stubborn and, quite frankly, too shy to discuss his feelings with others. He was the product of three hundred years of isolation, and a few months with four close friends and about seven believers wasn't going to immediately change the fact that he still considered himself alone.

Not being good with personal emotion himself, Bunnymund had half a mind to turn on his heel and leave Jack wallowing in his own personal misery. But he knew he couldn't leave things as they were. And so, he stepped over into Jack's patch of shade and sat down in the grass next to him.

"Alright," he sighed, "What's eating you?"

"...Nothing."

"Jack."

"You just said my name," Jack pointed out dully.

"And you mock my powers of observation." Bunnymund took a deep breath and continued, "Look, of course I like you, as painful as it is to say it out loud. How could I not, after everything you did? You're an aggravating little twat at times, but I don't hate you. I never have."

"I destroyed Easter," Jack mumbled. "You told me I shouldn't have been trusted, and to leave."

Bunnymund rubbed his eyes. "You can't remember the day of the week half the time but you cling to every word I say..."

"That's because I was afraid. That's why I remember."

Floored by the bluntness of the statement, all the Pooka could really do for a moment was stare at Jack in surprise. He had only ever heard the boy admit to being afraid of anything once, when he confessed about what he had seen in his memories and, subsequently, his fear of water and drowning. Jack usually covered up his weaknesses well, not revealing the slightest hint of pain. It was one of the things Bunnymund respected about him, and one of the things that made him the most frustrated with the winter spirit. After all, how was anyone supposed to get close to him if he kept himself bottled up?

Bunnymund sighed heavily. "You're right, mate. I did say that. What made you so afraid?"

"When Pitch was distracting me on Easter," Jack began, once again speaking so quietly Bunnymund had to strain his ears to hear, "he kept bringing up my fears. He said that I was afraid of nobody ever believing in me, and that I was afraid of you guys casting me out again. He was right about all that." His voice cracked as he continued, "And then when I got back, you... you..."

He didn't need to go on. Bunnymund knew what he was about to say. In just a few short words, he had confirmed Jack's worst fears, without even realizing. Sure, he himself had been out of his mind with fear and sorrow, but was that really any excuse? He didn't know exactly what went on with Jack after he chased him out, but he'd never made any effort to learn. A rush of guilt and sympathy for the boy he never knew he possessed rushed through Bunnymund's body like a tidal wave.

"I shouldn't have said what I did," he told Jack in a low voice, "It was wrong and stupid. Once I thought about it, I realized that for a split second what it felt like to be you." He laughed dryly. "Being walked through by that little girl was the worst bloody experience of my life. I don't even know how you managed to deal with it for three hundred years. I'm really sorry, mate."

Jack had been laying on his back with both arms crossed over his face, covering his eyes. For the first time since this conversation had begun, he peeked out with a worried expression.

"I'm sorry about the blizzard," he said out of nowhere, "The '68 one. That was wrong and stupid too, not to mention incredibly immature."

Bunnymund smiled. "You think I'm still mad about that?"

"You said you were."

"Crikey!" Bunnymund threw his arms up in frustration. "There you go, memorizing random sentences from months ago again!" He sighed again. "I'm not mad at you about anything. At this point in our association with each other I'm not going to hold your random acts of looking for attention against you."

"And I'm sorry about Easter, and the kangaroo thing, and—" Jack probably would have rambled on if Bunnymund didn't cut him off.

"Stop, stop! Listen to me."

Jack quieted and turned his attention to the Pooka, eyes wide. Bunnymund couldn't shake just how childish and young the winter spirit looked just then, like he was about to be scolded by his parent.

"Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"Good." Bunnymund crossed his arms. "You, me, and the others. We're a family now, got it? You don't have to worry your skinny little arse about what we think of you, because I can damn well say it's nothing negative. You're not alone now, understand?"

Jack was silent.

"Frostbite, you said you were listening."

"...I am."

"Then say something. Did you even understand a word I just said?"

"Yes."

Bunnymund sighed for the umpteenth time. This was more exhausting than he could have anticipated. "You understand that you're not alone, we're your family now, and I hold absolutely no grudges against you despite how much I may gripe about your many misdemeanors?"

"... I understand." Jack's face was blank, showing no emotion whatsoever. Then, after a moment, his lips quirked up in the smallest possible smile. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me." Bunnymund ruffled his white hair. "Now, what was the desert like in Botswana? I hope you at least got a little enjoyment out of this. What did it look like?"

Jack frowned, thinking. "Hm...it was kind of like the bottom of an ocean, only with all the water drained out. I wonder if you could do that? Maybe it was the bottom of an ocean once. Just imagine if there were still big fish lying around, or even still moving around, just floating—"

"Frostbite?"

"Hm?"

"You're delirious. Go the hell to sleep."

"...Okay."

**A/N:**

**The bromance has returned! And Jack turns into a tumblr night-blogger with that last bit. This one has replaced chapter 12 as my favorite. **

**This was a request from...someone (I honestly lost the name, I'm so sorry) who wanted a heart-to-heart between Jack and Bunny. I figured the only reason Jack would willingly discuss his feelings would be when he was loopy from a fever or something XD It turned out a lot longer than I thought it would. Which is good, actually, because there was a lot to be said. **

**Okay, on a more serious note: **

**Can I ask you guys to please not threaten me with physical harm if I don't update? I'm chill with a lot of stuff, but that just makes me really uncomfortable. I mean, I know that the odds of one of you actually tracking me down and boiling me in oil are pretty slim, but that doesn't mean I want to read about how you would actually do it. (That was just an example, nobody really said that.) Look, I'm really pleased that so many people like my story. I feel really loved, and that makes me motivated to make good on my daily-update promise. **

**But please keep in mind that I am a human being, not a lady machine that constantly churns out chapter babies. More specifically, I am a sixteen-year-old junior in high school who is struggling to get her grades up so I can get into a private art college, not to mention the fact that I have a lot of work to make up from my two days absent due to illness. Despite all this, if I don't update, there's usually a very good reason (such as my aforementioned illness, and there won't be any updates on Christmas or the day prior). **

**I feel really bad that I have to lay this down here when I want to be happy and chipper in the author's notes like I usually am. I haven't had a lot of problems with this—I can count maybe two total—but I feel like I should make my stance on the matter clear so it doesn't happen again, because, quite frankly, it really creeps me out.**

**Thanks for being cool, guys. I love you!**


	36. Heart of Darkness

He hadn't even seen it coming. The Sandman had been battling Fearling after Fearling, desperately trying to turn the tide of battle in favor of the Guardians, and for a moment he thought he would be able to. His golden sand had a devastating effect on Pitch's nightmares, and he was optimistic he could return the sand to its rightful state before they were completely overwhelmed by the stuff. After all, he and Jack had been putting up a decent fight before the rest of the Guardians showed up, and once they had Pitch had been minutes away from defeat.

A split-second lapse in attention had changed that. Sandy had had his back turned for one second, and that had been long enough for Pitch to make his move. Sandy had turned to look at how the other Guardians were doing and suddenly there was a sharp, burning pain in his back. His dreamsand turned grey, and then pitch black.

Pitch Black.

Sandman slowly and painfully turned to look at the culprit as the pain spread through his body, not even needing to take a look behind to know his body was disintegrating quickly into black sand. Pitch was grinning wickedly, reveling in his success, and he called down, "Don't fight the fear, little man!"

Fear? The Sandman was not afraid. He was angry at allowing Pitch his victory, because he knew this would be a serious blow to the Guardians, physically and mentally. He was saddened by Jack's long, broken cry of _"No!"_ as the sand continued to consume him, because he knew the boy would blame himself when the only thing he had done was put a good fight. He was worried about the state of the world, because without his sand to incite belief in children, where would that put his friends?

But he was not afraid.

More than anything, Sandy was defiant. He was not going to kneel down and give Pitch the satisfaction of seeing his adversary show pain and fear. Sandy was going to let him know that the Guardians would not go down so easily, whether Pitch thought he had won or not. Even in the face of death they would not submit to his fear. So, as his knees collapsed below him and the sand spread over his chest and face, he looked up and gave Pitch the fiercest glare he could summon. Pitch looked surprised, then his eyebrows furrowed and his face twisted in fury.

Sandy would have smiled at his small success if he had the energy or the time. But he didn't. After one final look at his old friend the Moon, he peacefully closed his eyes and allowed himself to be taken into the heart of darkness.

**A/N:**

**This one is short because I am tired. But hey! Here's the promised Sandman chapter!**

**I was listening to music from the Suikoden soundtrack while writing this (for those who don't know, which is probably everyone, Suikoden is a little-known video game series and also my very favorite thing in the world; I've been a part of the fandom since age eight and it's very special to me) and it just kept going through all the sad songs so it was like asdfghjkl ALL THE FEELS. **

"**Heart of darkness" is a mild reference to the American McGee's Alice games. **

**I need to go to bed, whoa. **

**Till next time, my lovelies!**


	37. I Remember You

It was like being punched in the stomach.

No, actually, never mind. Jack had been punched in the stomach before, many times, but none of that could compare to what he was feeling right now. He didn't have any breath, his blood pounded in his veins, his hands clenched into fists and shook violently at his sides. Jack pressed his lips together, willing himself not to show any weakness whatsoever as he stared down at the tombstone in front of him.

_Jackson Overland_

_Date of Birth: 12/20/1694_

_Date of Death: 12/15/1711_

"_In memory of our beloved son and brother."_

That was it. No long, overly-sentimental eulogy for the boy whose life was cut short. Not that Jack really cared about that; he knew the people of the colonial time period favored simplicity over everything else. But none of that mattered, for here was proof that Jack had actually lived and died, that he had had a human life, that people had mourned his death even if he knew for a fact that the hallowed ground beneath his feet was devoid of any body his family may have wanted to bury.

He took a deep, shuddering breath as a wave of emotion swept through his body and he was grateful, not for the first time, that the other Guardians had left him alone for the time being. Jack wasn't sure how well he was going to be able to hold himself together, and he didn't feel as though his relationship with the others was to the point where he could show an unorthodox amount of weakness. They knew what he had seen in his memories, he had told them all of the details under duress. It had been Tooth who suggested they go looking for the graves.

His family was here too. Jack's parents were buried together, their names sharing a headstone and placed right next to his. They had died within days of each other, in their sixties. Only twenty or so years after the death of their oldest son. Jack wondered, morbidly, what they had done when Rosie had stumbled into the house that fateful day crying about what had happened to her brother.

Rosie was harder to find. She had lived a long time, well into her seventies, which was impressive given the life expectancy back then. She'd also had a good number of children with a man named William Bennett. The name rang a bell in the far corners of Jack's mind, but he couldn't remember where he had heard it. However, it was of no consequence. Once he had managed to find his sister in the ancient and crumbling section of the Burgess cemetery all curiosity towards other matters had flown out of his head.

Her name was on her tombstone as Rose Catherine Overland-Bennett. Jack couldn't help but smile a little at that. Rosie had been so small, her name seemed longer than she was. He wondered if she had kept going by that nickname in her adult years, or went with the more adult Rose. Oh, the things he wondered about his sister, and the amount of regret he felt that he wasn't there to see her grow up. How had she met William Bennett? When and where did they marry? What kind of mother was she? How had... Jack swallowed a lump in his throat. How had his death affected her?

He slumped down on the frosted brown grass of the cemetery, all energy leaving his body. Jack knew that, given the chance, he wouldn't change a single thing that had happened on the day of his death. He would give up his life for his sister a thousand times over if necessary. But that didn't mean he didn't regret being able to watch her grow up and live her life, see her be the amazing woman she had doubtlessly become. Jack ran a hand through his hair.

The cruelty of it all was not lost on him. Jack was alive and well, and he'd been around Burgess the entire time Rosie was growing up without him. But his family couldn't see him, and he couldn't remember them.

Looking at Rosie's grave once more, Jack felt like he shouldn't just sit there. He should have brought flowers or something to leave, so Rosie would know he had been there. He wanted her to know that he was okay, and that she didn't have to worry about him at all. What could he do?

Jack arranged himself into a more comfortable sitting position, facing the marble tombstone. He took a deep breath and said, "Hey, little lady. It's me."

He grinned despite himself.

"I have a lot to tell you..."

**A/N:**

**In the event of an actual apocalypse today we all meet up in Boise, Idaho.**

**Don't ask questions, just do it.**


	38. Morbid Curiosity

"Hey guys, I just thought of something."

The other Guardians looked up from their activities at the sound of Jack's curious voice. The winter spirit looked as though he was just coming out of a period of deep thought; his eyes looked far away and he had an altogether distant air about him.

Bunnymund snorted. "This should be good. Alright mate, get it out. What's knocking around in that head of yours?"

Tooth and Sandy had been playing chess by the fire and eating cookies off of the plates the elves brought them, Bunnymund examining the points of his boomerangs, and North was busy carving a prototype for a new toy at his desk. They all stopped dead what they were doing as the next question flew out of Jack's mouth.

"Pitch's robe kind of fades into his body, right? Is he wearing pants?"

There was a long pause as everyone considered the question, then the room exploded into sound. North's prototype shattered in his hand, Sandy accidentally flipped the chessboard over in his surprise, and Bunnymund fumbled and dropped his boomerang to the floor with a clatter.

"Bloody—" he snapped, "Frostbite! Why would you even ask that?! I did _not _need that imagery!"

"Jaaack," Tooth whined, "Really? Just...really?"

Jack, whose mind was evidently still miles away, merely shrugged and said, "It was just a simple question. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is..." Bunnymund cut off and the other Guardians shuddered collectively. "There are just some things we do not need to think about, and Pitch's pants—or lack thereof—is one of them."

North dropped his head into his hands. "I will never unsee..."

"Let's just pretend we never had this discussion," Tooth suggested shakily, retrieving the chess board from its spot on the floor. "Sandy, snap out of the daze. We're not talking about it."

The Sandman obliged, and within moments they had all fallen back into their previous activities, though there was a tense silence in the room and every time Jack looked like he was about to space out again someone made some sort of loud noise to pull him out of it. They did not want a repeat of this incident, that was for sure.

Thousands of miles away in his shadowy lair underneath Burgess, Pennsylvania, Pitch the Nightmare King hopped up on his globe, snapped the waistband of his spandex leggings, and began dancing to a tune nobody else could hear.

He was fabulous.

**A/N:**

**Here, have your daily dose of what. **

**Iregretnothing. **

**Seriously though, this is why I shouldn't write at three in the morning. I woke up, reread this, and wondered exactly what was going through my mind last night. This is probably the crackiest chapter I'll ever come out with. By the way, I got another fan art, by tugamaggie on tumblr. I reblogged it—my username is cosmicpickle, if anyone wants to look there—and it's proudly displayed on my Hatsu Yukiya Facebook page. It is beautiful and amazing.**

**Another thing regarding a certain request: Ivy Night and Ivy Night's Sister, I really do appreciate your enthusiasm, but I don't want to write a Titanic chapter. There are a couple reasons behind this. One, other people (Twisted Skys in particular) have covered the subject perfectly. I suggest going to read the Invisible chapter dealing with the Titanic if you want to see it so badly.**

**Two, I do not like putting real-life tragedies into my writing. I did it once in a Hetalia oneshot a long time ago and decided I wasn't going to do any more because I can't deliver the respect the matter deserves. I don't want to write about the Titanic, or the Sandy Hooks Elementary shooting, or anything like that. I just can't do it. Sorry. I know lots of other people have done it but that's not my cup of tea over here.**


	39. Peace

Rosie was livid. She stomped red-faced to her family's property, leaving the snickering girls behind her. How dare they? Did they even know what they were saying?

_No,_ the eight-year-old thought furiously. _They don't know anything._

She rounded the corner of the path, the Overland house finally in sight, and she nearly took off into a sprint when she saw it. Her father was outside chopping wood, but she only gave him the smallest wave before rushing by, heading towards the pond a ways behind the house. Rosie was only looking for one person in particular, and that was likely where he would be.

Sure enough, when the pond came into view, so did Jack. He was leaned up against a tree, napping in the warm spring sun with his shepherd's staff lying on the ground next to him. Rosie noticed how peaceful he looked as he slept and almost backed out of bothering him, but the words of the older girls echoed through her mind and drove any doubt away. She stepped forward and prodded her brother in the side. "Jack," she said softly, "I need you."

He stirred and his brown eyes cracked open with a small, humored smile. "You sure spend a lot of time waking me up, little lady."

"I know, I'm sorry," Rosie apologized, plopping down on the ground next to him. Jack pushed himself into a comfortable sitting position and frowned, noticing for the first time the upset expression on his sister's face.

"What's the matter?" he asked, "Did something happen?"

Rosie sighed heavily and dropped her head onto his shoulder. "Elizabeth Burgess said some things that made me mad."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Ro, Elizabeth Burgess is my age. Why are you letting her bother you? I thought her sister was your friend, anyway."

"Anne is my friend, I think, but Elizabeth..." Rosie groaned. "She said mean things. I don't know why she felt the need to bother me today but she was with _her_ friends when I was walking around with Ruth and Mary Katherine, and she just sort of called over..."

She sighed again and Jack wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, what is it? You don't usually get this angry when people say tactless things."

Rosie was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath and blurted, "She said that since we're poor and you play around all the time you're never going to amount to anything and we're lucky that her father hasn't kicked us out of Burgess yet for all the trouble you've caused. She also said that the both of us were going to die alone and crazy in house full of goats."

Jack burst into laughter and Rosie stared at him incredulously. "What's so funny?!"

"J-Just..." he gasped, "the very fact that this bothers you so much!" Jack calmed down and wiped his eyes. "Rosie, Elizabeth may be the granddaughter of the town founder but she doesn't have the power to kick us out just because I threw a few snowballs at her group that one time. And a house full of goats? We're shepherds, not goatherds." He reclined back against the tree and grinned. "And I don't know for certain if I'll amount to anything. Nobody knows that for certain. We'll just have to wait and see what happens, won't we?"

Rosie nodded hesitantly and fiddled with the hem of her dress. "...The worst part was that Anne was standing right there. Her older sister was saying all these things and she didn't cut in and speak for me at all. I was really mad so I just left Ruth and Mary Kate and came here." Her breath rushed out. "Can we go throw things at them?"

"There's no snow around though."

"No, but there is lots of mud."

"...You are a strangely vindictive and vengeful child. I have trained you well." Jack laughed again and ruffled his sister's hair. "But seriously, I think you should just let it go. Elizabeth only ever says things like that to get more attention than she already has, and she has Anne pinned under her thumb. That kid couldn't say anything against her sister if she wanted to. It's not her fault."

"I guess," Rosie mumbled.

"Good." Jack stretched and lurched to his feet, holding out a hand for Rosie. She took it and he pulled her up, grabbing her into a one-armed hug.

"I'm not going to die alone in a house full of goats," Jack grinned. "Believe in me on that. I like to think that I will make something of myself, actually."

"Me too," Rosie agreed. "I'll believe in you."

"Hey, you know, when winter rolls around again maybe I could teach you to ice skate. Would you like that? You could teach your friends then, too."

Rosie bounced on her heels. "Yes! I'd love that!"

Jack took her hand and held it as they walked back to the village. "And if Elizabeth and her friends say anything to us we'll just throw things at her, like you so brilliantly suggested. Sound good?"

The little girl looked up at her brother, eyes swimming in adoration. "Sounds good."

She felt bad for Anne Burgess. That girl couldn't have an older sibling as wonderful as Rosie's.

_Well,_ Rosie thought, latching onto Jack's arm. _That's just too bad for her._

**A/N:**

**I am very fascinated by life in Burgess during Jack's human days, as well as his relationship with his sister. I like delving into it. I also realized it's been a while since I've done Human!Jack (like...thirty chapters, whoa) so I wanted to this time around**.

**Well, as today is Christmas Eve, I have a question: What do you all hope to get for Christmas?**

**No update tomorrow as it is, of course, Christmas. Happy holidays, everyone! I hope you have a good one!**


	40. Merry Christmas

Jack stared down at the package in his hands, eyes wide. "Guys...what is this?"

Jamie and Sophie bounced on their heels excitedly.

"It's a Christmas present! We wanted to get you something but didn't really know what you would want, so we just sort of..." Jamie trailed off and gestured silently to the lumpy, messily-wrapped present. "Yeah. You should just open it."

"But..." Jack frowned, "I don't have anything to give to you."

"Don't care!" Sophie laughed cheerily, giving him a thumbs up. She was definitely taking after her brother. "Open it!"

"Right," Jamie agreed. "We don't care. It's not like you could go out and get us something, anyway. So...yeah, open it"

Jack hesitantlyobliged, carefully peeling back the tape and crumbling the wrapper into a ball. He swallowed a lump in his throat. This was the first time—since he had become immortal, at least—he had ever received a Christmas present. He'd never had anyone to give to or receive from before now. In fact, he was expecting to just spend his holidays flying around aimlessly making it snow in random places like he usually did.

Jamie and Sophie, despite having pretty much their entire extended family staying in their home at the time, still found time to find him a present, wrap it, and hunt him down in the Burgess woods to give it to him. They probably would never understand what such an act meant to him after three hundred years of isolation. Jack didn't even care what the present was. Just the fact that he had received it meant the world and more.

In his hands he held a lump of soft cloth, and when he held it up Jack discovered a long white scarf that would be completely plain if it weren't for the pale blue and silver snowflake design on the hem.

"...Jack?" Jamie said hesitantly when the winter spirit remained silent, staring at the scarf with a flat expression. "Sorry, it was a dumb idea, we should have gotten something—"

"Are you stupid?" Jack cut in.

"Huh?"

"You think I don't like this?" Jack frowned and held the scarf up. At full length, it was almost as tall as he was. "This is the best freaking thing I've ever gotten in my life."

"R-Really?" Jamie's face lit up with a bright, relieved smile.

He nodded. "Really. Thanks."

Sophie cheered. "Put it on! Put it on!"

Jack wound the scarf around his neck, leaving the ends trailing behind him, and grinned. "Does it look good on me?"

The siblings nodded unanimously and it was clear they couldn't have been happier with his words.

Jack ruffled Jamie's hair.

"Really, kid. Thank you."

He blushed. "It really wasn't a big deal. It was on sale and stuff, and I thought..."

"I don't care if you picked it up off the sidewalk. Doesn't change the fact I love it."

Jamie opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment his mother's voice cut through the winter air. "Jamie? Sophie? It's time to come in!"

"Okay!" the boy called back. "Be right there!"

The two children hurried forward and Jack stumbled back as they both hugged him around the waist. Getting over his momentary surprise, he bent down and returned it.

"Merry Christmas, Jack."

"Yeah. Same to you too, kid."

**A/N:**

**I scrapped three different versions of this chapter before this one happened. I was just not satisfied. I only give you people the very best for your holidays, dammit! **

**Okay, so, last chapter I mentioned it being Christmas Eve... I accidentally posted that chapter early without being able to change the AN. So TODAY is Christmas Eve for me. I was so embarrassed when I realized...**

**Time for shameless self-promotion! I started a new story. It's a family one with Jack and Jamie, and Jack's a human! People like that, right? First chapter's pretty weak but I swear it'll get better.**

**No updates tomorrow. Have an excellent Christmas, everyone!**


	41. Five

Jamie hadn't expected to fall asleep. He had intended to stay up all night waiting for the Fairy to come after he'd lost one of his front teeth in a freak sledding accident earlier that day. But as he lay in bed reading and biding his time, he suddenly found himself very drowsy and he barely had time to safely tuck his flashlight and book underneath his pillow before he was out like a light.

He woke up to soft whispers and at first he thought he was dreaming. Then he heard the voices talking about teeth, and his eight-year-old mind had obviously equated that to the Tooth Fairy. Jamie stuck his arm under his pillow and slowly pulled out his flashlight, then jackknifed into a sitting position and switched it on.

There they were. Jamie's mouth fell open; he knew they had existed, but actually seeing them for himself was something else entirely. There, standing in his room, were the Sandman, the Easter Bunny, Santa Clause, and the Tooth Fairy herself. Only Santa really looked like what Jamie had expected. The Easter Bunny was a lot bigger and cooler than kids' books made him out to be, and the Tooth Fairy definitely looked like some kind of bird. Well, it didn't matter what they looked like. Here was proof that they were real.

"I knew you'd come!" he breathed, a wide smile crossing his face.

"Surprise!" the Tooth Fairy laughed, though she seemed somewhat nervous, for whatever reason. In fact, all of them seemed to be on edge. Jamie couldn't fathom why.

There was a pause, then the Easter Bunny said, "…Most of us."

Jamie frowned. That was weird. Why would he say that?

There wasn't anybody in else in the room besides them. Was there?

The sound of growling caught their attention, and to Jamie's horror he saw Abby the family greyhound raising her hackles and advancing slowly towards the large rabbit.

"No, Abby stop, that's the Easter Bunny!" Jamie said, trying to hold the dog back.

"Well, lucky he's never met a rabbit like me," the Easter Bunny said, once again speaking as though replying to someone who wasn't there. "Six-foot-one, nerves of steel, master of tai chi—"

Then it happened. Jamie's alarm clock went off, and chaos reigned in the room.

Later, after he woke up being knocked out by the Sandman (he was knocked out by the _Sandman!)_ Jamie would wonder how that happened. It definitely hadn't been set for that time, and it could only be set manually. It was like someone had set it off intentionally.

But that would imply that there was another person.

There had been four magical people in his room. Was it possible there could have been a fifth that he just couldn't see?

**xXx**

Jamie slumped down on his bed, feeling completely defeated. Why hadn't the Easter Bunny come? Jamie knew he existed, he had seen him and talked to him, so why? Maybe he was just really busy. After all, it couldn't be easy hiding eggs all over the world. But if he hid eggs all over the world, why would he skip over Burgess? That made no sense. Jamie didn't want to believe… no, he had to believe that the Easter Bunny existed. There was definitely no saying otherwise, no matter what Claude and Caleb said. Jamie just had to believe.

So why did he feel so doubtful?

He grabbed up his stuffed rabbit and glared at it seriously. It wasn't exactly the Easter Bunny, but it would do.

"Okay," he said, "You and I are obviously at what they call a crossroads." He took a deep breath. "I've believed in you for a long time. Like, my whole life, in fact. So you kind of owe me now." His brown eyes stared at it intently. "I just need one sign. Anything. Anything at all."

Silence.

Jamie sighed heavily and his heart sank. He let the rabbit fall to the floor and said, "I knew it." If the Easter Bunny was real, he wouldn't have ignored him. He would want to be believed. He wouldn't just leave Jamie hanging.

If the Easter Bunny wasn't real, the others probably weren't either. He'd had some lucid dream that night in his room and imagined the whole thing.

A cold breeze blew through the room, and Jamie turned to close the window. Strange, he couldn't remember having left it open. That's when he saw it. Frost crept up the glass panes of the window covering it in a thick coat of white, and as though someone were standing on the other side drawing, an image of an Easter egg appeared, followed by a crudely-drawn rabbit.

Jamie gasped and leaned forward to get a better look. To his surprise and amazement, the rabbit peeled off the window and came bounding towards him before exploding into snowflakes.

Snowflakes?

One floated down and touched his nose, and Jamie remembered the words of his mother.

"_You don't want Jack Frost nipping at your nose."_

"Jack Frost," he breathed, and behind him someone inhaled sharply.

"Did he just say…?"

Jamie turned. "Jack Frost?"

"He said it again!"

The little boy turned full now, and nearly fell backwards in surprise.

There was someone else in his room, and Jamie didn't have to ask to know who it was.

Jack Frost. The fifth person.

**A/N:**

**Wow, I really hate this one.**

**Having some mild writer's block lately, it's making it hard to come out with this stuff. I have a few good ideas but actually writing them out is difficult… oh well, it can only get better from here.**

**How was your guys' Christmas? Get anything good? I got my own laptop! I'm really excited about. It's nice being able to write on one that belongs to me, you know?**

**Thank you for reading and please review!**


	42. On Nightmares and Those Who Have Them

Blood. There was blood everywhere. Jack swallowed, suppressing the rising sting of vomit in his throat, and stumbled back a few steps. His knees shook and knocked together and it was all he could do just to remain standing. Fear and horror coursed through his body as he stared down at the scene in front of him.

They were dead.

The Guardians were dead.

Jack's legs gave out and he collapsed, biting back a scream. Tooth's feathers were darkened with blood, many plucked and littered about. Her wings were crooked and bent at an unnatural angle and her eyes were wide and glassy. Bunnymund wasn't much better, with wide gashes all over his body and clearly shattered legs. North was facedown, a gaping hole in his abdomen. There was no trace of Sandy at all, save for the golden traces of sand scattered around the area.

Jack fought for breath. How had this happened? He couldn't even remember ten minutes ago; everything was a blur. He dimly recalled a conversation between himself and North—or was it Bunnymund?—about trauma suppressing certain memories. Maybe that was what had happened. His mind was so shocked by what had happened that he didn't even remember what had happened.

He pulled his knees close to his body. What was he going to do? His family was gone. He was alone. A sob tore its way free from his chest and the tears started falling. _He was alone._

Jack was so tired of being alone.

There was no moon in the sky, no light reflecting off the snow. That was possibly what scared him the most: that the Man in the Moon was no longer present. Was that why this had happened? Had they been forsaken by their deity and creator?

Jack didn't think the world could get any darker, but apparently it could. A black shadow fell over him and the bodies of his family, blocking out what little light there was. And suddenly it was cold, too cold even for Jack Frost, and a chilling voice rang out, "This is your fault."

"No," he choked. "I didn't do this. I would never…"

"How can you be sure?" the voice taunted. "Aren't you the one who always makes a mess of everything? Why, haven't you been uncertain all this time of whether or not they even wanted you around? You're a _mistake_—" the last word came out as a terrible hiss, "—and you know it."

Jack's breath came out in short pants and he replied in a ragged voice, "Stop. Stop it…"

"You could have done something to prevent this." The shadows drew back from the bodies of the other Guardians, and Jack squeezed his eyes shut to avoid seeing the crushing sight again. "You could have done something, yet you didn't. You let it happen. Why are you still among the living while they walk among the dead? You should have been the one to die; it would have been a blessing for them to not have to deal with you any longer. This is your fault. You are worthless. You should die. Die. Die. _Die. Die. Die…"_

Jack clamped his hands over his ears and screamed.

**xXx**

"_Jack!_ Wake up!"

He was dimly aware of being shaken and he shot in to a sitting position, icy blue eyes flying open. His whole body was shaking and he could hear his teeth chattering.

"Jack, calm down. You're alright."

Jack took several deep breaths in an attempt to gather his wits. "N-North?"

The large Russian smiled down at him. "That's right. You were having a nightmare; I heard you yell all the way from the workshop. How do you feel?"

The winter spirit inhaled and looked around at his surroundings. Instead of an obscure, dark forest, he was in his room at Santoff Clausen and moonlight was streaming through the window. He took comfort in the moon, and it felt like MiM was trying to comfort him with the silvery beams. Jack clenched his fists to stop their shaking. "Thanks North, but you don't have to worry. I'm fine."

"I hate when you say that," North answered matter-of-factly, and Jack stared up at him in surprise. "You say you are fine when you clearly are not. What were you dreaming about?"

The images of the bloodied, broken bodies of the other Guardians as well as the voice telling him he wasn't wanted filled his mind, and Jack's breath hitched in his throat. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs but he tried not to let it show as he said, "Nothing big. Don't worry."

'…_it would have been a blessing for them to not have to deal with you any longer…'_

The voice echoed in his ears and Jack shuddered.

North sighed heavily. "Take a look at yourself." He gestured to the mirror set up over the bureau across the room. Jack followed his gaze and grimaced at what he saw. No wonder North wasn't convinced; he looked terrible. His hair was much messier than usual, eye still widened with fear, and the dark rings under his eyes contrasted boldly against his pale skin.

"Clearly not fine," North repeated. "Now, I don't want you thinking you can handle everything by yourself. It is okay to talk with us every so often."

The bluntness of the statement took Jack off guard and he stared down at his hands. North had never outright said anything like that before, preferring to leave him be most of the time.

'_It would have been a blessing…'_

But that wasn't true though, was it? Jack realized. North didn't have to come up all the way to his room to check on him, yet he did. That wasn't a sign that he didn't care. Just the fact that he had a room here proved that he at least didn't mind him around.

"…Okay," he said shakily after a long hesitation.

North beamed. "Excellent. Come with me. We'll get something to drink from the kitchen and then you can tell me all about it." He stood and clapped the winter spirit on the shoulder. After a moment, Jack swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood as well, following the large man out the door. He couldn't find it in him to suppress the smile that spread across his face, nor the rush of relief.

Jack was so tired of being alone.

**A/N:**

**Hey, the writer's block vanished! I actually like how this one turned out! I felt like I needed a bit more darkness and maturity here, if only for a little bit.**

**(Maturity, says the teenage girl who's currently wearing Adventure Time pajama pants and a Perry the Platypus T-shirt.)**

**Thank you for reading!**


	43. All Right

**Takes place immediately after the movie. **

**xXx**

They were well out of Burgess before any of them spoke again. The sleigh ride had been silent thus far, as all the Guardians needed time to digest what had happened. The battle against Pitch and his subsequent defeat had happened so quickly; the sudden change from fighting to Jack's Guardian initiation to the smooth sleigh ride left them all a bit breathless, and for the moment they were all content to sit and delve into their own individual thoughts.

It was Tooth who broke the silence and caught everyone's attention. A troubled expression on her face, she turned to Sandy and asked, "You really are okay, right?"

The Sandman looked surprised for a moment, then he gave her a gentle and understanding smile and nodded.

The group let out a collective breath. They had all subconsciously been worried, as irrational as it was, that Sandy's resurrection had only been temporary and he was going to dissipate back into shapeless gold sand once again. There was nearly a palpable aura of relief in the air.

"I should ask everyone the same question," North called from his seat at the front where he was directing the reindeer. "Is everyone alright?"

Tooth flexed her wings. "Little stiff, but otherwise fine. I suppose it would be worse if we hadn't gotten our powers back when we did."

"Agreed. Bunny?"

"Fit as a fiddle, mate. Couldn't be better. What about you?"

"The same. What about you, Jack?"

Silence.

"…Jack?"

The Guardians looked over to the winter spirit and found him nodded off, leaning against his elbow. Almost as though he sensed their scrutiny, Jack stirred awake slowly and his eyes slid over to stare at them staring at him.

"…Oh, sorry." He sat up and stretched. "What were we talking about?"

"Are you alright?" North asked.

Jack blinked. "Hm? Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You took a rather nasty fall earlier," Bunnymund pointed out, referencing when Pitch had knocked the boy out of the air. "Hit the ground pretty hard."

"Don't worry about me," Jack shrugged. "I've fallen before. It's no big deal. Besides, it's not as though I can really get hurt, is it?" He yawned. "I am pretty tired though. When was the last time any of us slept, exactly?"

The group fell silent. That was a good point. Now that Jack had pointed it out, they all realized how exhausted they were. And they still had so much work to do cleaning up Pitch's mess…

Bunnymund flopped backwards. "I'm not worrying about any of that right now. Wake me up in about three days."

"You want us to just leave you in the sleigh for that amount of time?" Jack asked lazily, leaning back on his arm again. "I'm cool with that…"

"I don't bloody care, do I? Crikey, you put me in such a bad—"

The Pooka was cut off abruptly by a fistful of dream sand flying into his face. In a split second he was unconscious, snoring peacefully. Jack didn't have any time to react before the same happened to him. Tooth giggled and turned to Sandy.

"You're pretty sneaky, you know?" she said, stifling a yawn. The Sandman didn't answer, instead flicking some sand into her face as well, and Tooth slumped over onto Bunnymund's shoulder with a light sigh.

"Sandy, what are you doing back there?" North called behind him.

Remaining silent, as always, Sandy weighed his options and decided it would probably be a good idea to wait until they landed at Santoff Clausen before knocking the large Russian out.

**A/N:**

**And after he knocked North out, Sandy ditched them all in the sleigh and left to go play poker with the yetis.**

**I'm only mostly kidding.**

**Thank you for reading and please review!**


	44. Not-So-Grudging Help

Jack sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. "Are you kidding me?"

Jamie stared sheepishly at his toes, absently flipping through the pages of the book he held. "You said you were good at reading and liked it, so…"

"Aren't you good at reading?"

"No."

Jack blinked, surprised. He always thought that Jamie would be the kind of kid who read anything he could get his hands on, considering how he devoured the occult books when he was younger. Then again, now that he thought about it, Jack could only remember Jamie reading occult books and nothing else. The book he held now Jack had never seen nor read, but it was definitely not of the supernatural sort.

It did kind of look interesting, though. Jack's inner bookworm was secretly itching to get a crack at it. But he knew what Jamie's game was, and wasn't about to give in.

"Run the assignment by me again," he instructed.

"My teacher assigned us each a book and we're supposed to read it and do a report."

"If this is your homework that you're supposed to read, why don't you do it yourself? You might actually like it, you know."

The boy made a small noise in his throat. "I'm too slow of a reader. My grade in English is really bad, and I need to get it up if I don't want to take summer school."

The winter spirit crossed his arms. "So you want me to read it, is that right?"

"…Maybe…"

"Jamie…"

"Just this once!" Jamie pleaded. "Please? I have so much other stuff to work on for other classes already! If you read it and tell me what happens, I'll do the whole report on my own, I promise!"

It was rare that Jack went into responsibility mode. Exceedingly rare, actually. He was much more likely to skip out on any duties that were thrust upon him. But he knew Jamie's grades weren't that good, and knew how important school was to humans. If he let Jamie take the easy way out, what good would it do the boy in the long run? No, it was a much better idea to put his foot down and demand that Jamie do the whole assignment on his own. His job was guarding children and ensuring they grew up properly. Thus, Jamie needed to do this himself.

And yet…

That book did look really interesting.

Jamie watched as Jack's hands started twitching. "Hey…Jack, you okay?"

"Fine," the winter spirit said stiffly. "My morals and my personal interests are just having an epic battle in the center of my soul is all."

"Okay?"

After a few long minutes of tense silence, Jack let out a rush of breath and raised his head, looking somewhat spacey. "What's the book called?"

"Oh, um…" Jamie checked the cover. "The Hobbit. I've heard of it, but never read it."

"Hand it over."

Jack hated the look of delighted relief on Jamie's face.

He was going to regret this.

He looked down at the book in his hands. It wasn't very long at all, by his standards at least. Jack flipped it over to look at the summary on the back, and smiled.

Well, _maybe_ he would regret it. Only maybe.

What was one assignment, really?

**A/N:**

**Everybody's wanted some more of the bookworm, so here it is! I hope it is satisfactory.**

**I saw The Hobbit last night. I know next to nothing about the Lord of the Rings but I really enjoyed this movie. Bilbo Baggins is absolutely adorable. I want to pet his hair. I'm going to buy the book and read it later today.**


	45. By the Fire

North was glad Jack was finally getting used to the idea of having a family. Jack would never say it out loud of course; he was still too shy and uncomfortable around others to spill out his personal feelings. But North prided himself on his ability to read people, and caught Jack's hidden smiles and content looks whenever he and the others spent time around each other.

He felt immensely guilty about having left Jack alone for three hundred years. The boy was undoubtedly damaged because of it, and North was going to do whatever he could to ameliorate the pain Jack felt. North wanted to get the boy to open up and accept them as friends and family. He wanted Jack to be able to initiate and accept physical contact without flinching and hesitation. And by the moon, North was going to make sure it happened.

He knew Jack couldn't be forced into it, however. Jack always took things at his own pace and he would open up when he was ready. It was happening already, in fact. Jack was staying at Santoff Clausen more often (though his discovery of the library might have had something to do with that) and spent more time around the other Guardians rather than fly around by himself.

Jack was the kind of person who never wanted to show any weakness around others. He never slept in the presence of others if he could help it. Thus, when North opened the door to Santoff Clausen's sitting room and found the immortal teen fast asleep on the rug in front of the fire when normally he stayed far away from any kind of heat, he was understandably surprised.

The feeling passed, however, and North decided to just let him rest and continue on his business. After all, even the most solitary of winter spirits liked to be warm sometimes.

**A/N:**

**Me BS-ing my way through a drabble because I couldn't think of anything else today, I wasn't motivated for anything, and this was already halfway done already and just stewing on my computer. Sorry.**

**Happy birthday to CSD! I couldn't do your request because I kind of already did it in chapter 14, but here, have a shoutout instead.**

**Another shoutout to Thoytsi, my wonderful friend who just finished reading and reviewing every single chapter. Literally every single one.**

**To the people who were wondering, yes I do indeed take requests :D I love requests. I don't to pairing requests here though; I'm trying to keep this neutral. (Another message to people who were wondering, speaking of pairings: Marceline is a character from Adventure Time. I ship her and Jack because of reasons.)**


	46. Innocent Belief

Once Sophie had fallen asleep after her escapade in the Warren, it was only sensible that Jack be the one to take her home. After all, Bunnymund was overseeing Easter, the sleigh was too clunky and would be impractical for a job such as this, and Tooth could barely hold her own weight in the air at this point, let alone carry another person with her.

The Guardians had naturally been concerned about the possible ambush from Pitch, but Jack laughed off their warnings. Hadn't they seen him in action?

"Don't worry," he smiled, "I'll be quick as a bunny!"

Bunnymund shifted the position of the small girl in his arms. "Not to be rude or anything, but how are you going to carry her? I mean, you're….well…" He gestured aimlessly in Jack's direction. "I mean to say won't she go right through you?"

Jack just shrugged, trying to ignore the familiar stab of pain that shot through him at the reminder. "I figured I'd just carry her on the wind or something."

The Pooka gave him a doubtful look and he sighed. "Look, I am perfectly capable of taking a little girl home safely."

"I never said you weren't."

"Sometimes you don't have to say anything, it's just implied—"

"Enough," North cut in. "Bunny, let him take her. We don't have time to argue."

Bunnymund sighed again and he hesitantly passed Sophie in Jack's direction. Out of force of habit, Jack reached forward to take her, and hollered in shock when she dropped. He lunged forward to catch her with a sinking feeling of dread…

…and nearly passed out when, rather than hitting the ground, Sophie landed safely in his arms.

His breath rushed out of his body and it felt like he was being electrified ten times over. His whole body shook and he nearly dropped her again, but forced himself to get it together and arranged her into a more comfortable position. Jack took a few shaky breaths, trembling, while the other Guardians pretended not to notice what had just happened.

It had always been obvious that Jack's invisible status was a very painful topic to him, and more-or-less taboo to bring up. His years of isolation had affected him so deeply that it was rare to see him smile with genuine happiness. The look on his face now, as the realization that he did have a believer in this little girl dawned on him, was something none of them had ever seen before. None of them, not even Bunnymund, wanted to ruin the moment by pointing him out.

For possibly the first time ever, Jack had a believer who could see and interact with him without her even knowing she was doing it.

_Kids this young will believe anything, huh?_ he thought to himself with a small smile as the toddler wrapped her little arms around his neck. After making sure his voice wasn't shaking, he said aloud, "Alright, I'm off. I'll get this kid in bed then be right back."

"Good luck," North replied kindly, a knowing sparkle in his eye.

Jack nodded and took off, carefully holding Sophie close during the flight home.

For his first believer, actually getting her to believe had been surprisingly.

Getting her into bed was another story entirely.

**A/N:**

**Happy New Year, I got four hours of sleep last night! Went to sleep at four in the morning, gah. **

**So yeah, Sophie was Jack's first believer because she could actually interact with him (in the most adorable way ever, might I add). I don't think Jack really realized that in the movie because Sophie never acknowledged him directly, thus why he was so thrilled when Jamie was able to see him. Kids Sophie's age believe anything and if she heard that someone named Jack was going to take her home, she'd believe someone named Jack was going to do that. **

**Bunnymund dropped her on accident, momentarily forgetting that Jack was supposed to be intangible XD I don't imagine he was really thinking things through when he passed her over either.**

**Thank you for reading!**


	47. Remember Me

How sad it was that, out of everyone in the Overland family, Jack was the one who had gotten a headstone first. He had been so energetic and full of life; nobody had ever imagined that he could have died, especially not in the way that he had. For a long time after the fact everybody had a hard time getting used to the idea that Jack would never be seen running around Burgess again, laughing with his sister and throwing snowballs at everyone he saw.

_Well_, Rosie thought to herself, striding purposefully into the cemetery, _now is not the time to be reminiscing about such things. You're not here to mourn, so stop thinking things that will only serve to depress you._

The twenty-three-year-old woman located her brother's grave with ease, having visited it countless times in the past. She always liked to think that Jack was listening whenever she came to talk to him and appreciated being kept up-to-date on the events in Burgess. Sometimes events weren't really that important, like what Rosie and their parents had had for supper, or how Elizabeth Burgess had made a fool of herself once more. Relevant or not, Jack always had liked the little details.

Rosie knelt by his headstone, smoothing her skirt under her while wishing she had some flowers to place down. Jack liked lilies, he told her that one day a long time ago when the two of them sat by the pond in the summer. It was nearing December however, so she was unable to obtain any.

"Hello, Jack," she greeted, "it's been a while. I'm sorry I haven't come to see you in so long. I've been…" She paused, and then continued, "I've been rather busy."

Rosie straightened up and folded her hands on her lap. "You see, I'm getting married next week. To William Bennett, the one whose family came over on the ship from England a few years ago. I believe I told you about him. He's the artist." She smiled fondly. "He's the artist. His family is tailors, so it's not as though that's his source of income, but I really do believe he'll be famous one day. You would like him; he's always finding something to laugh at, just like you."

A cool wind blew through the cemetery and Rosie shivered, clutching her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. "He wanted to be married in the summer, but I voted winter because it's always been our favorite season, hasn't it? So beautiful and full of fun, and even the cold isn't so bad once you get used to it. I pushed the matter through by insisting we were getting married in the chapel, not outside, and told William he should stop being silly."

Her smile turned slightly sad. "Maybe I'll bring him here one day so you can meet him. You two really would have a lot on common, though he doesn't entirely have as much energy as you. William prefers sitting by the fire to running around in the snow. I don't think he likes the cold much."

After a moment of silence, Rosie sighed. "Elizabeth said—of course it was her, right?—that William would surely back out of the marriage if he found out how often I come here to speak with you, Jack. She said speaking with the dead isn't something a sensible wife should do."

The area fell silent and suddenly Rosie was eight years old again, leaning against a tree and nestled into her brother while he shook with laughter at something else Elizabeth had said.

"…_You are a strangely vindictive and vengeful child. I have trained you well. But seriously, I think you should just let it go. Elizabeth only ever says things to get more attention than she already has…"_

Rosie found herself chuckling at the memory. "You were right then and that hasn't changed. Even in her thirties Elizabeth is still a spoiled teenager." She pushed a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. "She's still irritating, but I don't let her bother me. I already told William that I come here to talk to you, and he completely understands."

She stood and brushed off her skirt. "I should go now. It's starting to get dark. I may not be back for a while, what with the wedding and all, and once that's done I want to focus on beginning a family with William. I promise I will come back, though."

A few fat snowflakes began falling from the cloudy grey sky, and Rosie smiled softly. Jack had always liked snow more than he liked most people. She reached down and brushed the light coating of white off the headstone, leaving his name easily readable.

"I won't forget you, so don't forget me, alright?"

On the outskirts of the graveyard, watching from far, the white-haired boy wondered with mild curiosity whom it was the young woman was talking to.

**A/N:**

**This is a less depressing extension/prequel to chapter 37, I Remember. Lots of talking in this, I'm sorry. **

**Rosie would have definitely moved on with her life after Jack's death. I mean HIS little sister would not mourn him forever and constantly blame herself for what happened. She'd grow up, understand what he did for her and why, and live the life he gave her to the fullest. She'd never, ever forget him, but she would not cry over him every day.**

**Wow, I made myself sad with that ending. **


	48. Everyone is Wrong

"So I have a question."

North looked up suspiciously. Every time Jack had a question, it never ended well and the Guardians ended up having nightmares for days afterwards. Indeed, Jack did have that look in his eyes again, the faraway look that made them all so wary.

The teenager was lazily slumped over in an armchair, looking as though he was eating everything he could get his hands on. He was keeping the food-bearing elves busy, for sure. North didn't mind. In fact, he liked that Jack enjoyed hanging around Santoff Clausen so often. In any case, he and North were the only ones in the room.

"If this is about Pitch," North replied uneasily, "get out."

Jack frowned. "It's not about Pitch." Before North could breathe a sigh of relief, he continued, "It's about you."

"Me?" The Russian's thick eyebrows knitted together. This couldn't end well.

"Yeah. It's not bad, I swear."

North eyed his sabers just in case. "Alright, what is your question?"

Jack adjusted his position in his seat and looked towards the ceiling, where a toy airplane was zooming around. "Well, you know how you're this big, bulky Russian guy who uses dual swords and is built of way more muscle than fat?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing!" Jack raised his hands defensively. "I'm just curious about how the world started thinking you're this super-cheery round guy with a red face who bounces around giggling like he's high on laughing gas. I mean obviously they got some things right, like the jolliness I guess, but the red suit is completely different and you're a bit fonder of corporeal punishment than some other incarnations."

North stroked his beard, thinking and secretly feeling relieved that Jack hadn't brought up something that would cause him to lose sleep. "You know, the Germans and Hungarians believe that, rather than giving coal to naughty children, I bring switches to whip them into shape."

Jack, who had been taking a long drink from a glass of eggnog, promptly spat it out and began choking. "Y-You what?! You don't really do that, do you?!"

"Of course not!" North feigned offense. "I would never hand out anything that could harm children."

It was Jack's turn to look relieved. "Okay," he said, "so why does it vary so much? Why is the image of Santa so different in America than other places, like Europe and Russia?"

"That would be Coca-Cola's fault," North said flatly. "I had nothing to do with that image. Well, them and another company called White Rock Beverages. Both liked the image of red and white together, I suppose. Really, the image of each of us, the Guardians, varies wherever you go. Like the Tooth Mice in Europe; they just work for Tooth, but the Europeans use them over the fairies when they're telling children about us."

"Huh," Jack said, "that's interesting. Hey, aren't rabbits like, a plague down in Australia? I bet they're really thrilled having the Easter Bunny down there."

North raised his eyebrows. "Do you want to talk to Bunny about that?"

"…Not if I value my life."

"I thought not."

"Now that I think about it…" North leaned back in his chair at his desk, looking thoughtful. "The same goes for you as well."

"Hm?" Jack blinked. "What do you mean?"

"About the preconceptions. Exactly how often do you go around 'nipping at people's noses,' as they say?"

Jack turned a hilarious shade of red and spluttered incoherently for a moment. "What does that even _mean_? Where did it come from?" He groaned and sank down further in his chair, hiding his face in his arms. "That's really embarrassing and totally untrue. It's not horribly widespread, is it?"

North hummed and casually swept some dust off his desk. "Well, I wouldn't say that."

"Oh, no..."

North was surprised steam wasn't emitting from the younger immortal's ears, though considering Jack's body temperature the image was rather unlikely. He did suppress a chuckle when Jack drew his hood up over his head, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"That is the worst image ever. Nipping at noses, _what?_ Whose depraved fantasy was that?" he mumbled, burying his face in his knees. "For the first time I think I actually kind of miss being invisible."

Looking at Jack's reaction to the information about his image North noted, not for the first time, that it was probably a good thing the winter spirit didn't have a girlfriend.

**A/N:**

***quietly sneaks back online after a three-day absence***

**The last time I didn't update for this long, I was sick with a horrible cold. This time the reason was the exact opposite: I was out having a life! Crazy, I know. One of my best friends who moved to Florida over the summer came back to visit so of course I was spending all my time with her and a big group of others. That and the writer's block returned in full force until I reread my reviews from last chapter looking for prompts and came across a review from ****knightlygirl ****that gave me the inspiration for this chapter, so thank you to her! **

**True story about the Germans and Hungarians. We learned about it in my German class. **

**We're almost to 2000 reviews and fifty chapters you guys, ohmygod I can't believe I've actually amounted to something here (I also almost have fifty likes on my Facebook page, but that is irrelevant). I want to do something big to celebrate…Hm… definitely something that will kill the feels, yes, good. **

**Also, if you catch any typos, please point them out so I can go in and fix them :) Thanks!**


	49. Haircut

Four-year-old Sophie gripped the countertop and pulled herself off the floor, a feat all the more impressive for the small child considering she held a pair of safety scissors firmly in one little fist. Her feet dangled over the tile bathroom floor and with one final push, she was perched safely on the counter, facing the mirror.

Sophie arranged herself into a more comfortable and sturdy position, leaning over the sink. She fingered a long lock of blonde hair with distaste, calling to mind the many times the mean boys in her preschool class had pulled on her hair, even going so far as to chew and suck on it on occasion. That was really annoying, not to mention disgusting, and Sophie had had enough.

Besides, the fairy in her favorite storybook didn't have long hair. It was short, cropped in a perfectly straight pixie cut. Sophie love fairies, a fact evident by the costume butterfly wings she wore everywhere, even to bed. All the other little girls in her class wanted to be princesses, like Snow White and Cinderella. Not her. She wanted to be a fairy. And fairies had short hair.

She pulled the lock of hair straight and raised her scissors. With one swift cut the hair was severed and fell limply into the sink. She looked up hesitantly at her reflection. The lock she had cut off had been around her face, and the remnants of it hung over one eye, leaving only a single green iris exposed. Sophie blinked at herself in the mirror, then her face lit up into a bright smile.

She grabbed another chunk of hair and sawed it off, leaving it brushing her shoulder. A few more got the same treatment. A few minutes later, the hair that had hung halfway down her back was now cropped at shoulder-length, more or less. Only the longest strands reached that far; the others hung about at various lengths and some were so short they stuck out upwards at sharp angles.

Sophie loved it.

She giggled happily and set the scissors down, jumping off the countertop. After nearly tripping on the rug, she bolted out the door and down the stairs calling, "Mama, Mama!"

Mrs. Bennett, at the sound of her daughter's thrilled voice, stepped out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel. "Sophie? Is something the matter?"

Sophie stumbled to a halt in front of her mother and held up a fistful of hair. "Look what I did!"

Mrs. Bennett's mouth fell open in shock and she spluttered incoherently for a moment. "Sophie…what is that?"

"Fairy hair!" Well, it wasn't exactly like the fairy in her storybook, but it was close enough.

Her mother's hand tightly gripped the door frame. "Did you do this just now?"

"Uh-huh."

Forcing herself to remain calm, Mrs. Bennett took a deep, steadying breath and glanced at the clock. Jamie wouldn't be home from school for another couple of hours. She still had time to call the barber and make an appointment to get the toddler's hair fixed. She looked at a piece at the top of Sophie's head that was sticking straight up. It would be horribly short after this…

"Baby," she said, " Why don't you go sit in the living room and watch cartoons for a bit? I'll call the haircut lady and we'll get it fixed right away."

"No!" Sophie yelped, throwing her hands over her head. "I like it!"

Mrs. Bennett blinked. "You…you do?"

"Yes." Sophie sent her a determined glare. "I'm a fairy."

The woman knelt down to the little girl's level. "You don't want to get it straight and pretty again? It was so long before."

"Nooo. It's pretty!"

Mrs. Bennett hesitated, then sighed. "You're sure?"

Her daughter nodded wordlessly.

"…Alright, then. If it makes you happy, I can get used to it."

Sophie jumped and cheering, then spun around in circles singing, "I'm a fairy, I'm a fairy~"

Mrs. Bennett shook her head and smiled. Her daughter was so strange. But she wouldn't have it any other way.

**A/N:**

**Here we have a short chapter dedicated entirely to Sophie's hair. I didn't know I wanted it until I actually started to write it…**

**Headcanon time: Sophie cuts her own hair. I mean look at it, how could that not be all her? **

**Alright everyone, chapter 50 is coming up tomorrow. I really want to do something special for it. So tell me, what can I do to absolutely kill your feels? Something I haven't done already. **


	50. Incendium

_Set pre-movie._

Jack struggled to breathe as the smoke swirled around him, blocking his vision and robbing his lungs of oxygen. His whole body ached and his legs felt like giving out, but he fought the exhaustion. He couldn't give up. Not now. There was too much counting on him.

The house before him lit up the night like a beacon, flames pouring out from every opening. Jack stumbled forward a few steps in an attempt to get closer, before the heat inevitably pushed him back once more. This whole situation was getting worse by the second and Jack's sense of urgency, which had already been pretty heightened up till now, spiked into outright panic as he watched the porch roof cave in. Where were the people? Why weren't they coming out?

That was why he was here. The people. If it had just been something like a lawn fire or an accident with fireworks in the woods, then he'd taken care to get as far away from the heat as possible. But he knew that kids lived in this house, three of them in fact, and he had to get them out.

Jack didn't make trips to Montana very often. Lots of cold and snow, but what was the point when there were hardly any people to enjoy it? Besides, he liked best making storms in places where such a thing would be unexpected. Another problem with Montana was that snow days were virtually nonexistent. Everyone just shoveled the fresh three feet of snow off their sidewalks and went about their business. However, he had become familiar with a few of the people who lived in this area of the state and had played with some kids in town, even if they hadn't known it.

The house that these children (two young brothers and a sister) lived in was in the historical part of town, where nearly all the buildings were made of wood. In the middle of winter, in old wooden houses that probably had a one or two vintage fireplaces, fires were at least likely to happen. And one had.

Jack tried surging forward once more, trying to fight his way into the house so he could find the children and their parents and get them out safely, but it just didn't work. The instant he got too close he would feel sick and nearly pass out, forcing him to move back until he regained his senses. He didn't want to utilize the wind to fly up to any of the windows for fear of intensifying the flames, and he wasn't sure if he would still get weak in the air or not.

The alarms of fire trucks could be heard in the distance, and Jack nearly swore out loud. He hadn't wanted humans to get involved in this. It was better if he went in, he as the one who could not die. There was too high a chance of humans dying in a fire like this. Jack wanted to save as many people as possible.

But his body just wasn't working with him. He never thought he would hate being the Spirit of Winter as much as he did right now. He was the ice-cold bringer of snow, and both snow and ice melted when it came into contact with fire. Every time he tried to kill the flames with a frigid blast from his staff the cold evaporated almost instantly. He wanted to be the one to take care of this, but he just couldn't. He was useless.

Jack's hands curled into fists. He felt like crying, which was strange; he had long ago run out of things to cry about. But it was true. He was _useless_. He was supposed to be immortal, and he'd always felt like it was his job, if anything, to watch out for those who weren't. And now he couldn't even save three little kids.

His heart pounded in his chest and his lungs screamed in protest as he lunged forward one final time, taking off in a dead sprint across the smoldering lawn. He made it further than he ever had before, bounding up to the porch and avoiding fallen debris. He hurled his body into the front door, which collapsed easily, and stumbled into the front hallway. His eyesight began to blur but he hurried forward anyway, ignoring the weakening of his limbs and ominous groaning of the floorboards under his feet.

There were neither signs nor sounds that indicated any people being there, and he felt a lead weight drop in his stomach. They couldn't possibly be dead already, could they? He shook his head, banishing the thought. They couldn't be dead. He had to…get to them first…

_No…_ he thought as his legs finally gave out underneath him. It was happening too fast. He struggled to stand but his muscles refused to move. His vision swam and before he had the opportunity to fight back, the world fell into darkness.

**xXx**

He woke up after an indefinite amount of time, buried underneath the remnants of the house. He pushed the blackened debris aside and sat up urgently. The house had all but collapsed, leaving only an empty shell and a horribly burned winter spirit behind.

Jack stood and nearly immediately began to choke, coughs wracking his body and causing him to double over, holding his stomach as his chest flared in pain. His whole body ached horribly, but he ignored it and straightened up, looking around with dread. There was nothing left. No people, no house, no evidence that anything had actually lived here. Just piles of dead wood.

His hands trembled and, after digging around for the staff that had miraculously survived the carnage and a few shaky false starts when he tried to summon the wind, he took off into the sky. The first place he flew was the hospital. He checked every single window in his search for the three children and their parents, to no avail. Either the curtains in the room were drawn, the room was empty, or held an unfamiliar patient. The family was nowhere to be found.

The desperation Jack felt was nearly palpable, and became unbearable when he later discovered that the entire family had died that night.

He didn't have the will to move for a long time afterward. He just lay in the snow, on the top of a mountain, for however long it was. He didn't care to keep track of the days that passed by. The burns that covered his body eventually healed, but he didn't even notice when or how the pain began to fade. Nobody came looking for him, and why would they? He was invisible. He didn't have people who cared about him. If he went missing, or if he really had saved that family and died in the flames himself, nobody would be the wiser.

And what did he care? Maybe that was how it should be. Who would want to hang around a failure like him, who couldn't even save a few children? Jack sure wouldn't. He could barely even live with himself. The bitter weight of defeat hung with him for a long time, and even when he eventually regained the energy and will to play with children again, he was always nervous, even if he wouldn't admit it to himself. No child ever strayed into danger when he was around. The smiles on their faces never faded, and that gave him at least the slightest bit of relief. If they were able to remain happy, then so could he, if only for a little while.

Happiness could only last so long, however. On nights when the children went home after playing in the snow and were lovingly tucked in by their parents, Jack would look up at the moon and wonder, not for the first time, why he had been chosen for this. For a life that wouldn't end, a life that couldn't even be given up to ensure the safety of another. If he wasn't the way he was, composed of cold and ice, then maybe that family would have lived. The thought haunted him and never really left the back of his mind, and he hated it. He hated the grief and guilt and worthless shame, all the emotions and memories he had to live with because of what he was.

Jack just wished it would all end.

**A/N:**

**Happy fifty chapters! I don't like the end. At all. But meh, what can you do? Some people wanted some angsty Jack, and this was what I got.**

**Fire is frightening. We had some really bad fires up here in Montana over the summer and it was scary. Gah. Fire scares me. Forces of nature scare me. **

**Long rant is long. Can we get to 2000 reviews with this one? I think we can! Let's do it!**

**Thank you so much for getting me this far, everyone. I love you so much. **

**(PS: Readers of To Have a Home, the next chapter is coming tomorrow. I've been tired and haven't had time to hammer out a 2000+ word chapter the past couple days.)**


	51. Jack the Ice Pack

Jack never expected much from his visits to the Tooth Palace. Hop in, talk with Tooth and maybe help her with a few little jobs, play with Baby Tooth, things like that. He expected that this trip would end up the same way. That said, he was definitely not expecting to find a passed-out Tooth Fairy lying on the mosaicked floor of her palace being fussed over by her helpers.

Biting back the startled shout of her name, Jack allowed the wind to drop him to the floor and he hurried over to her, the fairies moving aside to let him through.

"Tooth! What's the matter, are you okay?!"

She just moaned and rolled over, and Jack noticed how flushed her face was. He hesitantly touched a hand to her cheek and flinched back at the heat her skin was radiating. He let out a heavy breath, attempting to calm his nerves, and muttered, "Alright, this is bad…"

He turned to the fairies, who seemed to be expecting him to take charge and make everything better. "Don't worry guys. Uh…" He racked his brain, trying to think of a way to ameliorate the situation. He had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't be able to do this by himself. "Um, alright. Okay. How about this? Two or three of you go get help from…" He fired off the first name that came to his mind, "Bunny. Just go to the Warren and make him come here. The rest of you keep on with the tooth collecting. Sound good?"

The fairies nodded collectively and a couple of them zoomed off while the others hurried back to their positions. Jack sighed and tried to arrange Tooth into a better position. He didn't want to bother her too much by moving her, but she looked more comfortable when her wings weren't pinned under her back. Jack felt a tap on his back and turned to see Baby Tooth hovering with a worried expression.

"Hey sweetie," he said softly, gently petting her head. "Looks like your mom's sick. Does this sort of thing happen often?"

Baby Tooth thought about it, and then waved her hand in a _so-so_ manner. She fluttered to his shoulder and nestled herself in next to his hood.

Tooth mumbled and rolled over in her sleep, edging closer to Jack. To his surprise, her arms shot out and wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

"T-Tooth, what are you doing?" he stammered, face reddening. Baby Tooth almost burst out laughing; he was so embarrassed it was comical.

Her hazy amethyst eyes cracked open and she peered up at him, looking slightly delirious. "'S Jack," she said, voice slurring slightly.

"Are you drunk or something?" he asked without thinking, then inwardly slapped himself. What kind of question was that? Of course she wasn't. She just had a fever.

Sure enough, Tooth shook her head.

"Jaaack," she said, so quietly he could barely hear her, and had to lean in to listen.

"Yeah Tooth?" he replied, "What is it?"

"I looove….yoooo….."

Baby Tooth nearly toppled off the winter spirit's shoulder as he jerked backwards in a futile attempt to get away from the fairy.

"What?!" he gasped, praying and hoping very dearly that this was just brought on by the lucidity of her fever. He did not want to deal with unrequited love confessions. "Tooth, you—"

"Yooouuuuur teeth," she finished. "I love your teeth."

There was a beat of silence, and Jack visibly relaxed. "Oh thank God."

He barely had time to take a breath before Tooth suddenly jerked him downwards and he found himself lying on his back next to her, her feathery arms keeping a firm hold around his torso. One thing was for sure, she was stronger than she looked.

Jack squinted in the sun and looked up at Baby Tooth, who was flying over the two with a very amused expression on her tiny face.

"Not one word of this to anyone," he told her crossly, beginning to feel uncomfortably hot. If the fairies didn't get Bunnymund here soon, Tooth wouldn't be the only Guardian with a high fever. Why did her palace have to be based above India, of all places?

"Too late, I've already seen," a familiar voice spoke. Jack felt a surge of irritated disappointment. Of course. He let out a heavy breath and craned his neck to get a good look at the newcomer.

"The fairies move fast," he opined flatly as Bunnymund hopped into view. "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"This sort of thing has happened before," the Pooka replied, gesturing towards the unconscious Tooth Fairy. "She has a tendency to overwork herself sometimes. We make it a point to come quickly whenever the fairies come to tell us she's passed out again. Anyway, you sure look comfortable."

Jack scoffed. "Hardly. You want to help me out? The sun is doing things to my head and she's not letting go."

"No."

"Wait, what? Don't you remember what happened at the Warren after I came from Botswana? Are you sure you want to deal with both me _and_ Tooth?"

"You're alright for the moment," Bunnymund said, crossing his arms. "I'm honestly sorry about this, but I'm more worried about Tooth. It's probably better if you stay where you are."

"Why?"

Bunnymund gave the winter spirit an exasperated look. "You haven't figured it out yet?"

Jack blinked at him cluelessly, and he sighed. "The sun really is doing its work on you already. Frostbite, she has a high fever and you're ice-cold. Of course she wants to stay close to you. That's why she's not letting you go."

Jack's mouth fell open and he spluttered, "You don't think that keeping her cold would only serve to make her more sick?"

"Nope. You're good. Just hang in there, and when she wakes up again we'll be able to move the both of you to a cooler place. You haven't seen Tooth when she gets like this; it's bloody terrifying. She gets violent if you bother her." Bunnymund glanced around the palace. "Do you know where they keep the food here? I'm starving."

"Wha—you can't just leave me here! I'll die!"

"No you won't. I'll be back soon. I really am sorry."

"You are not!" Jack squirmed in Tooth's arms. "Get me out!"

Bunnymund didn't answer, instead turning his back on the pair and hopping off in the direction he thought he remembered the kitchens to be. They were rarely used, because Tooth and her fairies rarely felt the need to eat, but they kept it well-stocked anyway. He grimaced. He should probably bring back a pack of ice for Jack while he was at it.

Jack was right. Bunny really didn't want to deal with two feverish Guardians at the same time. Between Jack's brutal honestly and Tooth's delirious violence, he was in for a rough rest of the day.

**A/N:**

**Bunny did feel sorry for Jack, there just wasn't a whole lot he could do. **

**Tooth overworked herself, and that's why she passed out with a fever. This happens more often than one might think, and the Guardians are well-prepared for when it happens. As a new Guardian, Jack had no idea. Poor him. **

**Gah, school is really messing with my updating schedule. I have finals coming up and I've had less and less time to write due to preparing for them. Once they're over though, I'll have a lot more time, so just bear with me until…say, Thursday. I have my last test that day. Thank you!**


	52. Failure

_Continuation of Jack the Ice Pack._

Bunnymund was reaching the end of his rope. Leaving Jack and Tooth alone was probably one of the dumbest things he had ever done. He thought they'd all be better off if he'd just opened a tunnel underneath them and sent them hurtling off to Santoff Clausen so North could deal with them and he could go home. This, he figured, was probably his own form of Purgatory.

Tooth had woken up briefly about an hour ago. Jack was growing increasingly lucid at this point, but the moment Bunnymund had suggested that the two of them move, Tooth had actually hissed at him and held the winter spirit all the tighter. When the Pooka had tried to move them into the shade anyway, she let go only to try and take a swipe at his face with her fingernails.

This was terrifying. Usually Bunnymund let North and Sandy take care of these situations, because they actually had the patience for it. Honestly, the feverish fairy scared him quite a bit, and Jack taking mumbled stabs at him with sheer, blunt truthfulness wasn't helping.

"It hurts," Jack wheezed, face flushed. "It's too hot." He looked up at Bunnymund with clouded blue eyes. "I'm going to make it blizzard in the Warren for this."

Bunnymund didn't answer. He knew Jack would keep that promise. The winter spirit squirmed weakly in Tooth's arms, wincing when she edged closer and muttered, "Stop moving…"

Alright. It was time to admit it.

The situation had gotten out of Bunnymund's control.

**xXx**

North honestly wasn't surprised when a very harassed-looking Bunny had popped out of a tunnel in the middle of his workshop, carrying what looked like a blue and green lump of body parts under his arm. He knew something like this would happen eventually; one of Tooth's mini-fairies had come up all the way to the Pole to tell him what had happened.

Bunnymund had never been particularly known for his tolerance levels. it really had only been a matter of time before he hopped over requesting help. North sighed and headed over to give his friend a hand.

"I thought it was only Tooth who had a fever," he said, frowning in confusion as he tried unsuccessfully to untangle the fairy and winter spirit. Tooth's eyes cracked open in a fierce glare and she grumbled, "Leave me alone..."

Bunnymund scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, well, things happen. Look, I'm pretty sure if she keeps hold of Frostbite like that, he'll die of asphyxiation. Is there any chance you can get them detached without anyone getting hurt?

A deep laugh rumbled in the Russian's chest. "Of course I can! Who do you think you are talking to?"

"...Right. Good luck with that, mate."

Ten minutes later, Bunnymund found himself irritatably tending to frostburn and scratch wounds on North's face.

"I decided that maybe it was best to leave them."

"You are useless."

**A/N:**

**Everyone wanted this to be a two-parter, but I really didn't have any inspiration, but you guys really wanted it. There was a terrible battle in the center of my mind. I was surprised to have survived.**

**And that's why this one stinks.**

**Oh yeah, and because some people needed to know and I want to avoid any further confusion: I am a girl. I am very female. Also, I'm sixteen. **

**Right. See y'all tomorrow.**


	53. Mother

Jack and Tooth were both horribly embarrassed once they woke up and found themselves wrapped up in each other. Understandable, considering the circumstances. They gasped and each jackknifed into a sitting position, moving as far away from each other as possible before looking around at their surroundings. It was a rather cold spare room in Santoff Clausen, evidently, and there didn't appear to be anyone else around.

"How did we get here?" Tooth asked quietly, shivering.

Jack was, of course, perfectly fine with the temperature and merely shrugged. An awkward silence fell between the two and they blushed, edging further away from each other.

"Sorry about that," the fairy mumbled, rubbing her arms.

"N-No worries," Jack told her. "I honestly don't remember much of it."

"Still, though. I'm told I get very strong when I'm like that."

"You do."

"Hm. You said you didn't remember much."

"Just a testament to how strong you are then, isn't it?"

They fell into silence again, not speaking for a long while until Jack cleared his throat once more.

"They're going to make fun of us," he said, referring to the other Guardians. "I bet they're just waiting for us to wake up so they can rub it in."

"You're right," Tooth agreed with a sigh. "…I have an idea."

Jack blinked at her. "What is it?"

She turned to him with a mischievous smile. "Are you up for flying around a bit? I was thinking we could try your visit again, properly this time."

**xXx**

They hadn't been touched down at the Tooth Palace for thirty seconds when Jack and Tooth found themselves swarmed by fairies. Tooth's helpers whizzed around excitedly, clearly thrilled that their boss was back. Tooth laughed and, whilst patting a few on the head, said, "Aww, hey sweeties! I missed you too."

Jack watched with a smile as she cooed over the fairies for several more minutes. Then, curious, he asked, "So where do they all come from?"

She blinked. "Where do what come from?"

"The fairies." He gestured around the palace. "You've got hundreds here. Where'd they come from, exactly?"

"Me," Tooth said matter-of-factly.

Jack spluttered. "Y-You?! How…does that even work?"

Tooth frowned and sank to her knees, thinking. "It's a bit hard to explain. But I didn't give birth to them the traditional way, if you're wondering."

Jack let out a deep breath. "Okay, that's good, because I had this really weird ima—never mind. So what's a non-traditional way of…" He coughed awkwardly, "Giving birth?"

"Magic," she answered simply. "It's sort of like I just split into smaller, slightly different versions of myself. But the fairies aren't just mindless clones, they have their own minds, personalities, and wills as much as they would if I were their mother in the traditional sense." She accentuated the word _traditional_, lips quirked up in a small smile.

"Huh," Jack said. "That's interesting. So you are their mother, then? In a manner of speaking."

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"…How many fairies do you have, exactly?"

"Five hundred and forty-three."

Jack let out a low whistle. "Not as much as I thought, but still. Day care must be a pain."

"Well…" Tooth eyed Jack, who had been rushed up to by Baby Tooth and was now cradling the little fairy in his hands. "Not particularly. They don't really need babysitting because they have a job to do, but when they want to take a break I have a pretty good caretaker."

"You mean me, don't you."

"Yes."

He chuckled and stroked his thumb over Baby Tooth's soft feathers. "Alright, then. I don't really mind."

**A/N:**

**I hate finals. I hate them. They're messing with my updating.**

**Oh yeah, I threw in a bit of book-canon there. In the books, Tooth creates her fairies by splitting into smaller versions of herself. I just put a little twist on it, I think. **

**Her being the mother of the fairies puts a whole new spin on her panic when Pitch steals them…gah, that's terrifying…**

**Guys, I want a human!Baby Tooth story. I don't care if I have to write it, I don't care if someone else does, I just want one. (But if I do it, I need ideas and inspiration because I seriously have no idea how this would even work.) So yeah. Y'all should help a sister out on that. Till next time!**


	54. Hunger, Or Lack Thereof

Jack was skinny. He knew that; he'd seen boys who were around his physical age and had taken note of how much smaller he was than them. It had begun as merely a casual observation, until he began overhearing parents brag about how big and strong their sons were, and that was how men should be. He didn't have any parents. He supposed that the closest thing he had was the Man in the Moon, and he hadn't heard a word from him in a very, very long time. Nobody was going to compare him to someone else his physical age. Even if he could be seen, there wasn't anybody to do it.

So why did it bother him so much? Why did the fact that he could count his ribs, wrap his whole hand around his arm, and that his shoulder blades stuck out at a sharp angle bother him? Nobody could see him. Nobody could criticize him. Yet it still made him feel ashamed for some reason, like he was doing something wrong.

What, though? The only way to not be skinny was to eat a lot, right? Jack did not have the means to eat a lot, unless he robbed a bakery or something like that. But stealing food from a shop was not the same thing as stealing books from a library. You could return the books, so it was really only borrowing. You could not return food once you had eaten it.

Besides, Jack never felt hungry. He was fairly certain this had something to do with his status as an immortal; he could not die, so he did not need food to sustain himself. He could eat, but there was nothing to be gained from it. He wouldn't feel any different. When he thought about it like that (and Jack always had a lot of time in which to think about things like this) he wondered if he _could_ change his body size by eating. Maybe he was frozen in time, stuck in the form he was, and no amount of gluttony could change it.

People were not supposed to look the way he did, like they were starving. Jack wasn't starving, but he hated that he looked as though he was. So he turned to clothes. Nothing dramatic, just things that would make him look less…painfully small. When his leather cloak finally wore out, he replaced it with a heavy overcoat. It made him look shorter, but covered up his thinness well. He wore it for many years, and when it too wore out he replaced it with the blue hoodie.

Eventually, the white blouse he'd worn since day one came apart at the seams and the only thing he managed to find in replacement was a plain, oversized T-shirt. The sleeves hung down to his bony elbows, but Jack didn't care. He simply tucked the hem into his trousers, pulled his hoodie on overtop, and felt satisfaction when the effect made him look thin enough, but not emaciated.

After the defeat of Pitch, Jack naturally took to hanging around Santoff Clausen as much as he liked. There was lots of food there, and he picked off it whenever he felt like, but as usual his body didn't show any change. Used to this, Jack never gave the matter any thought, until one day when he was sitting in North's office by the fire. It was getting uncomfortably warm for the winter spirit, and without thinking he pulled off his hoodie and let it drop to the floor.

North glanced up at the sound and did a double take when he saw Jack not wearing the hoodie. It was an unusual sight; like his staff, it was always on the boy's immediate person. After a long look, North noticed just how much smaller Jack appeared without it. His arms were very thin and his large shirt hung off him, accentuating his size. It was the sort of thing people tend to be concerned about.

Jack didn't notice the staring, as he was immersed in some book or another, but looked up when North cleared his throat.

"What?"

The Russian cut to the chase. "Jack, how long has it been since you have had anything to eat?"

Jack blinked then flushed pink, crossing his arms over his torso. "I don't need anything. I'm like this naturally."

"It doesn't look healthy," North pushed. "Do you feel alright?"

"I'm fine!" the winter spirit snapped. "Of all the things you can worry about when it comes to me, this isn't one of them. I'm fine," he repeated with conviction.

North frowned. "Are you embarrassed?" he asked bluntly.

The blush in Jack's face darkened. "Just a little," he admitted quietly. "I wish you wouldn't talk about it. I'm being honest; it's not a big deal."

North observed him silently for a moment, and then nodded. "Alright. If that is what you say, then I will believe you and keep it to myself. Just know," he added sternly, "that the kitchen is always open should you want something."

Jack swallowed. "Okay. Thanks."

"Of course."

**A/N:**

**At least, the kitchen is open to Jack until he pulls that stunt from chapter 7. Then he's SOL.**

**Jack and I have the same problem: Being so skinny it's almost embarrassing. Honestly, when people comment on your weight and ask if you're alright often enough, you sort of get the feeling of not wanting people to see it. It's not fun being mistaken for having an eating disorder when you **_**don't**_**. That's why hoodies and long sleeves are my friends. That's also why I liked writing this chapter (which someone requested, by the way) so much, because it's something I could personally relate to. I like when I can do that, it makes the whole process so much easier. **

**Speaking of requests, I need some. I need to pad up my list of ideas for future chapters because I'm starting to run low. Hand 'em in, my lovelies.**

**Also, finals are over! I can get back to regular updates! :D Till next time!**


	55. Learning

Six-year-old Jack Overland was not used to sitting still. He was small for his age, but even at such a young age he was constantly running around and getting into some mischief or another. There were very few children his age—most of the young people in Burgess were either toddlers or past the age of ten—yet he always managed to find a way to entertain himself.

He played games. He ran around pretending he was a soldier, or a knight, or something along those lines. The few boys and girls who were his age joined him more often than not, and it seemed that little Jack never stopped moving. But there comes a time when even the most energetic of spirits runs low on creativity, and it had just happened to Jack. The little boy was wandering around aimlessly, looking a bit lost, before his mother found him.

"Jack?" Mrs. Overland asked her son, shielding her eyes against the bright summer sun. "Is something the matter?"

Jack flopped down onto the grass and began absently tugging up the blades. "'M bored," he mumbled, brown bangs falling into his eyes. "There's nothing to do."

"What about your friends? What are they all doing?"

"They're busy or can't come out." Jack huffed. "And Papa's out with the sheep. I wanted to go with him but he said I couldn't till I was bigger."

His mother laughed. "Well, of course! You're so small that the sheep would drag you away."

He looked up at her with a very clear '_You aren't helping'_ look and she giggled again, ruffling his hair. "Why don't you play by yourself?" she asked.

"It's no fun that way," Jack replied morosely. "I can't come up with fun things to do on my own. I need other people."

Mrs. Overland smiled. "No, you don't. You're very creative, I'm sure you can come up with something if you try hard enough."

Jack's response was to fall limply back on the grass and stare up at the sky. His mother sighed with a small chuckle and shook her head. Her boy was usually so energetic, it felt strange to see him so put out. And when it came to entertaining him, he usually had his father around to help. Mrs. Overland was of small stature herself (a trait Jack had clearly inherited) and had never been very active or energetic, unlike her husband and son. She was fairly introverted and like many other young women her age she spent a good deal of her time taking care of the house, doing needlework and reading in her spare time.

The last thought sparked the beginnings of an idea, and a slow smile spread across the woman's face. She stood and brushed off her skirt, then held out a hand and pulled her son to his feet.

"Come with me into the house," she said.

Jack blinked. "Why? What are we doing?"

"Something fun," Mrs. Overland replied simply. She led the little boy inside and sat him down at the table, and walked away to get something. Upon returning, she dropped a small stack of books on the table and pulled up a chair next to him. "You're going to learn to read."

"…Why?"

"Why not?" She smiled broadly at him. "You're going to be able to do something no one else your age can, and you'll be able to go anywhere you want without having to move. I promise, you'll never be bored again."

Jack frowned, thinking it over, then his face lit up as well. He nodded eagerly, "Okay."

Mrs. Overland moved her chair back and held her arms out, and Jack clambered into her lap. After settling in, the woman picked up a book and opened it.

"Alright then, let's get started…"

**xXx**

Rosie walked slowly over to where her older brother sat, leaning against a tree with a book propped up on his knees. What was he doing sitting still like that? It was such a nice day; didn't he want to be out playing with her or the other children? Only five years old, Rosie didn't understand much about Jack. Some days he would have endless amounts of energy, and others he would suddenly want to just sit around and do nothing but read. It didn't make any sense to her.

He barely even glanced up as she nestled in beside him, and instead said in a distant tone, "What's going on, Rosie?"

"I'm bored," she answered flatly. "There's nothing to do."

The fourteen-year-old looked at her fully then with an amused look. "Oh really?"

Rosie nodded. "Can you play with me?" she whined. "Both Anne and Mary Katherine are sick today. It's not fair."

Jack chuckled quietly. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Can we do something?"

He pretended to think about, frowning with faux seriousness. "I dunno little lady, I'm kind of busy at the moment." He tapped his open book for emphasis.

"Jaaack," Rosie pleaded. He laughed.

"I'm just kidding. I already have a good idea for what we could do." Jack held an arm out and Rosie scooted over underneath it, leaning against his shoulder.

Her wide brown eyes looked up at him with excitement, "What are we going to do?"

Jack just grinned and opened up his book again.

"Watch and listen. We're going to do something fun."

**A/N:**

**I'm so, so sorry for the wait. Real life has been getting in the way far more than it should. Gah.**

**There's so much potential with little!Jack. So much cute. And a few people wanted to see how my little bookworm actually learned to read, so here it is :D **

**Fun history lesson: Someone once pointed out to me that most people during the days of early America were devout Puritans who frowned upon, among other things, children playing and having fun. Thus, someone like Jack would not have been able to run around the way he did. HOWEVER. My idea is that Burgess is set in Pennsylvania, which was mainly settled by Quakers after the state's founding by William Penn (after whom Pennsylvania was named—it means **_**Penn's woods**_**). The Quakers, unlike the devout, strict Puritans, were actually pretty chill guys that nobody else liked because they were so laid back, hence why they found refuge in the very empty and welcoming Pennsylvania in the early 1680's. They didn't support obnoxiously loud and unruly behavior like guys getting drunk and smashing things I suppose, because they didn't like alcohol either, but if kids wanted to run around and play then they could.**

**Headcanon time: Jack's family/village equals a merry gathering of Quakers. **

**Author poll: How many of you have seen the amazingness that is ParaNorman? How many would be interested if I started a story for that?**

**Till next time!**


	56. Jack Frost

"_Jack? What happens when you drown?"_

_He looked up with curious brown eyes. "Huh? Why do you want to know that?"_

"_I don't know," she shrugged, sweeping a lock of dark hair behind her ear. "I'm just curious. I think it would be pretty scary, don't you? I mean, neither of us knows how to swim."_

"_I imagine you die," came the flat response, then he laughed and pulled the little girl closer. "But you don't have to worry about it. Not as long as I'm around."_

"_This summer, d'you think we could learn how to swim? Just in case, I mean."_

"_Sure, I bet we could. The pond would be a good place to try."_

"_Okay. Can we go skating later?"_

"_If you want. It's a good day for it."_

_She smiled happily then with innocent excitement, and he couldn't help but smile back._

…

"_Jack, I'm scared!"_

"_I know, I know! Don't look down, just look at me. You're going to be fine. We're going to have a little fun instead."_

"_No we're not!"_

"_Would I trick you?"_

"_Yes! You always play tricks!"_

"_Well, well not this time. You just…you just have to believe in me."_

…

In a split second he was under, suddenly submerged in frigid water and looking up at the thick barrier of ice separating him from everything he knew. He could dimly hear the sound of pounding against the ice as his little sister screamed his name and tried to get him out, to no avail.

He panicked, realizing that he was surrounded by water and there was no way to escape. He flailed around to find a way out, but there was none, just the crushing void he was sinking into. Pressure built in his lungs as he tried not to inhale, tried to hold onto his air and thus his one chance of survival just a little bit longer. Eventually he couldn't hold it in any longer, and inadvertently drew breath. Water rushed in through his mouth and nose, down his throat, and into his lungs. He coughed violently, but only succeeded in bringing more in.

The world around him began to grow dark and his struggles grew weaker, and it made him afraid. He was terrified that he was going to die, and he was terrified for her, the one he would be leaving behind. What was she going to do without him?

He sank down further, as though something was pulling him down, and his eyes began to drift closed, shutting out any light and sound. A blurred image of the girl's face flashed through his mind one last time.

…Who was she?

He was floating now, but he didn't know how long it had been. Hours, days, weeks, even months or years. Time seemed to have stopped. Who was he? Did he have a name? Everything was slipping away. Every time he thought he was coming close to an answer—who he was, where he was, what the pounding sound was—it left as quickly as it came. He felt like he was missing something very important, but couldn't remember what it was. He tried to remember, but wasn't strong enough.

He felt weak. He couldn't move, and that made him afraid as well. Shouldn't he be able to? At the very least, he should be able to breathe. Though, he supposed, that all depended on where he was. And that, he did not know. The thought didn't stop the fear though; he didn't know how long it had been, so was it possible he had been there for a long time? How much longer was this blackness going to last? Or was this his fate, to be condemned to the unyielding darkness for an eternity, unable to move or breathe or call for help?

He ran these thoughts through his mind over and over, feeling more hopeless with each passing moment. All he wanted was to get out. He didn't want to stay like this forever. He wanted someone to come out and pull him out of this crushing darkness and cold. It was so cold and lonely and frightening.

He wanted it to be over.

How long had it been? He had no way of telling. Suddenly though, it seemed as if he was moving upward. That was strange; of all directions to move, that was where he was headed? But he found he wasn't paralyzed anymore either. He stirred, wiggling his fingers and marveling in the feeling. It was still cold, but it didn't bother him as much as it had before. In fact, it was even sort of enjoyable. That was different. Where had he ended up?

He cracked his eyes open to look around at his surroundings, and immediately squeezed them shut again when they were assaulted by a bright light. After mustering up his courage, he opened them again and saw the silvery sheen of the moon shining through what looked like ice, though he wasn't sure how he knew that. He didn't know why, but at that moment all his fear rushed away and he felt a rush of relief. Everything was going to be alright.

The moon grew bigger, or perhaps it was just him getting closer, and the brief thought that he might be blocked by the ice flitted through his mind. However, to his mild surprise, he easily passed through and found himself being raised into the open air. Clear blue eyes widened as he gasped for breath, feeling comfort at the cool breeze caressing his skin. His eyes scanned the area before landing on the moon.

As he stared, a voice rang through his mind. It was ageless and wise and he felt an immediate sense of peace when he heard it, though it only said one thing.

_You are Jack Frost._

**A/N:**

**Wow I got melodramatic in this one.**

**I'm so, so sorry it's been so long guys! Real life and writer's block has been getting in the way far, far more than it should. I'm so sorry. I'll try to do better, but inspiration and motivation have been pretty spotty for me thus far. **

**I need to stop taking advantage of the endless puddle of angst that is Jack's death. Seriously, someone stop me. Also, I believe that the Man in the Moon didn't have anything to do with Jack's memory loss and that his memories slipped away with his life. He was the only immortal to become so after his death, which is why none of the others had this problem. **

**I now have a story-related poll on my profile, if anyone would care to check it out :D I'd appreciate it.**

**Till next time!**


	57. Safety Precautions

"You know, Jack, I think you might have done that enough times," Jamie called out as Jack jammed the butt of his staff into the surface of the iced-over pond for the umpteenth time. The three of them-Jack, Jamie, and Sophie-were in the forest at Jack's pond, Jamie holding two pairs of ice skates in one hand and his sister firmly in the other. Jack had given them both the strict instructions of, "Don't come out here until I tell you. I have to make sure it's safe."

The week prior, Jamie and Sophie had gotten it into their heads that they wanted to go ice skating. Not at the local indoor rink; that was far too crowded with older kids and smelled strongly of chili cheese fries. Jamie had reasoned that there was a perfectly good pond not even a mile from his house that always seemed frozen solid in the winter, so what would be the problem with using that?

Apparently, there was a problem. A big one, yet Jack refused to actually tell the siblings what it was. Instead, when they had told him their idea, he had adamently refused to allow them to go through with it and had put an end to any of their efforts to persuade him otherwise or sneak out while the winter spirit wasn't around. Jack had made a point of keeping an eye on them even when they didn't know he was there. Maybe it was creepy, but Jamie found it a little irritating instead. What was the big deal? Jack was always the one who was a hundred-percent supportive and enthusiastic about winter activities, so it didn't make any sense for him to be so opposed to ice skating.

The siblings hadn't given up, though. It had taken a week and countless hours of shameless begging, but they'd finally got Jack to relent under the condition that he was there to keep an eye on them and the other condition _that they did exactly what he told them. _Jamie and Sophie were quick to agree in their excitement, and with a heavy sigh Jack told them to go get whatever they needed.

And now here they were, Jamie and Sophie standing off to the side while Jack froze the pond over...and over...and over again.

"No," Jack said, slamming his staff down again and sending another wave of magic over the iced surface. "It has to be _solid."_

Jamie thought about replying that it seemed solid enough and maybe Jack was being a little too paranoid, but decided against it. Instead he just readjusted his grip on the laces of his and Sophie's skates with a sigh. "I think this is going to take a while," he said to his sister, who nodded wordlessly. The two of them plopped down in the snow and watched Jack go about his erratic business with dull disinterest.

Maybe they would have been better off braving Burgess Indoor Recreation Center after all.

** A/N:**

** Before anyone asks, this is not going to be a two-parter, I don't think. This is just a shiny little thing I'm throwing in your guys' direction to distract you while I get my life together. Sorry.**

** This is supposed to be kind of funny, I guess. I'm still clawing my way out of Jack-angst. Almost out, but not quite. I wanted to draw a comic or something of this scene but realized I lack the necessary skills XD (hint hint, followers)**

** Thank you for reading and please review. **


	58. In the Silence

For a long time, he didn't speak.

It wasn't like there was anyone to speak to, anyway. Jack was alone. All he really had was the wind and, believe it or not, the wind wasn't all that talkative. It...made noise, he supposed, but that didn't exactly make up for decent human interaction. The interaction didn't even necessarily have to be human. Honestly, Jack would take whatever he could get.

He couldn't get much. Not only could the humans neither see nor hear him, but the other immortals didn't want anything to do with him either. Winter spirits were too volatile, they said, convieniently ignoring the fact that Jack was the only winter spirit and he did his best not to be too dangerous. But no, the other spirits didn't care. Too dangerous, too cold, too young, too annoying. They all made their excuses. Even the Guardians, who were supposedly the most caring and generous people in the world_-supposedly- _couldn't spare a moment to say hello, and in time he'd just stopped trying to get their attention.

Was he asking for too much and just didn't know it? Maybe the other spirits were right, Jack thought. Maybe the Man in the Moon made him this way intentionally. Perhaps the Spirit of Winter was supposed to be a solitary job. Jack had been told more than once (mainly by the other seasonal spirits) that nobody liked the cold. It caused nothing but death. It didn't really help anyone at all, unlike Spring's rains and Summer's nurturing warmth.

Nobody wanted to be around him. Nobody wanted to see him or hear his voice or listen to whatever he had to say. And eventually, Jack had nothing to say. He lapsed into a never-ending silence. He stopped yelling and running at the humans, doing his damnest to get their attention. He avoided the other spirits as best he could. He traveled the world and performed his sole duty without uttering a single word or sound.

In the off chance he did run into another spirit, he turned around and steered clear of them without confrontation. He didn't want to hear their sneering voices or deal with their pompous attitudes. So what? He was perfectly fine by himself.

At least, that was what Jack tried to convince himself of.

He never knew how bad it had gotten until Easter of 1868. He was passing over Canada, heading over to Scandinavia before the warmest months set over in North America, when he looked down and saw it. The Easter Bunny, jumping around and hiding eggs for children to find later. Jack didn't know what snapped in him then, but suddenly all the emotions he'd been holding back for decades flooded out.

Maybe it was immature, but he didn't care. If everyone else had time to spare for every child in the world, why couldn't they make room for one more? Why did he have to spend so much of his time alone, in complete silence? He shouldn't have to do that. Did he not deserve that just as much as anyone else? What had he _ever_ done to deserve what he had?

Jack didn't care if it was the Easter Bunny or anyone else who noticed him. He didn't care at all. He just wanted someone to listen to him and tell him it was alright to be the way he was. And if he didn't get that, it was okay. He could settle for just being seen.

Needless to say, Bunnymund was not expecting the catostrophic blizzard that raged through the area that day, and he was not pleased with it at all either.

One thing was for sure, Jack Frost had made himself seen.

** A/N:**

** Oh look who's back. **

** ...Hi. **

** I've been extremely busy. Extremely. I'm surprised that my hair hasn't turned white and blown away in the wind, what with all the stress I've been under. People who've liked my Facebook page understand. Anyway, sorry about that, guys. You are all wonderful and you deserve better than that from me. I might not be able to update tomorrow (going on a college visit to a town two hours away with my school's language classes, and we only get back at about 6:30 at night) but I will on Saturday. **

** I have this headcanon that Jack went a long time (like fifty or more years) without speaking to anyone or anything at all because there was just nothing to talk to. His voice was really quiet and raspy once he eventually started back up again, and then he took up talking to himself. **

** FYI: Readers of To Have a Home:**

** Saturday. Saturday. Saturday. Saturday. Saturday. **

** Thanks for reading! I love you guys**! **This is gonna be a two-parter, by the way.**


	59. A Fear of Falling

**Set pre-movie.**

* * *

Sometimes he liked to go out on his pond and just stand there.

Well, 'like' was a strong word. Jack didn't like it, exactly, but he couldn't stifle his curiosity He'd keep a loose grip on his staff and walk out to the center, carefully withholding his powers as he stood, looking down at his reflection on the ice. He didn't know why he did it, but he was just curious. He was curious about how much effort it would take to shatter the fragile surface and fall through.

He never did fall through. Jack was always careful about that. It wasn't like he was scared-he knew he'd be able to survive a fall into ice-cold water, considering his nature-it was more of a gut feeling; only later would water become a source of fear for him. Something told him that he would not like it at all if he fell in, but sometimes he wondered what it would feel like. He wondered how it would feel to be underneath that darkness, falling into the void, unable to breathe or see or move. It was the kind of thing you wondered about when you had nothing else to do or nobody to talk to, kind of like wondering how it would be to die. You thought about it all the time, but you never actually went through with whatever you had to do to satiate your curiosity.

That was how it was with Jack. He would stand on the ice, watching the cracks spin webs under his feet, but the second it showed signs of giving way he would jump into the safety of the air without even getting his toes wet. He just stood without refreezing it for support, and he didn't dig in his heels or slam on the ice to speed up the process. No matter how much he thought about how it would feel to go under, he could never convince himself to take the plunge.

* * *

** I'm going to get the second part of the last chapter up later today, I promise, I just had to get this teeny little thing out first. I don't even know what it's supposed to be.**

** Thank you for reading!**


	60. The Blizzard of '68

** Continuation of **_**In the Silence.**_

* * *

North had never seen Bunnymund so furious. The Pooka was pacing around his workshop practically foaming at the mouth as he ranted and raved about the freak blizzard that had hit the northern United States and Canada, completely burying the area in snow. Normally North would leave the Pooka to his meltdown in peace, had it not been for the fact that Bunnymund insisted the entire thing was Jack Frost's fault.

"Six feet of snow! _Six feet of effing snow!" _Bunnymund spat out, turning on his heel for another lap around North's office. "When I get my hands on that Frost kid, I am going to wring his scrawny neck!"

North didn't answer and instead frowned and leaned back in his chair, lost in thought. He definitely hadn't been expecting his friend to burst into his workshop covered in snow and spitting with rage, but what was even stranger than that was Bunnymund's account of the story. He'd been hiding eggs for Easter, standard procedure, when it had started snowing. And it hadn't stopped the entire day, eventually evolving into a massive storm that had buried North America from Pennsylvania to Toronto.

The Russian man was familiar with blizzards. He had to be, considering the time of year his own holiday was placed, and as it was was still only March it wasn't unusual for snowstorms to crop up here and there. If a blizzard happened to land on your holiday, well, that was tough luck. You got over it eventually. No, the unusual part of Bunnymund's story was Jack Frost and his own fury towards the whole thing.

Nobody knew Jack Frost. Sure, everyone knew he existed, but the winter spirit had never socialized with anyone. North knew in his stomach that part of the reason behind that was that nobody ever socialized with him, but half the people he'd talked to regarding Jack, in the odd moment the boy came up in conversation, always said that Jack had always flown away when they approached. He left very quickly, and North didn't know anyone who had even heard him utter a single word. He was easily one of the most solitary spirits in existance.

Normally Jack never stirred up blizzards around someone else's holiday. All the nature spirits showed that common courtesy, even him. It didn't make any sense for Jack, who usually avoided all possible interaction with others and stayed away from holidays, to suddenly decide he was going to mess with Easter.

"You're sure it was him?" North asked, speaking for the first time since Bunnymund had started his rant. "You saw him?"

"Yes, I'm bloody sure!" the Pooka replied hotly. "All I had to do was look up and there he was, looking down with this smug expression like he was completely enjoying wrecking my holiday. And I bet he was! By the moon, I am going to _kill him."_

"What did he look like?" Having never seen Jack himself, North needed to know if he was going to find the boy.

"Huh? Why d'you want to know?"

"I'd like to speak with him for you."

"Again, why?"

"Well..." North shrugged and gestured to the opening in the ceiling where the moon was shining through. "I don't believe Manny would be very appreciative if you went homicidal on his Spirit of Winter."

Bunnymund snorted. "Trust me, I'd be doing him a favor. Why he even chose that infuriating little blighter is beyond me."

"You see?" North interrupted. "You are angry, too emotional. You'd just make things worse. I'll go talk to Jack Frost, see if he'll say anything to me, and smooth things over."

Bunnymund looked like he wanted to argue, but kept his mouth shut. He knew North was right; he'd probably get into a shouting match with Jack Frost, if he didn't attack him on sight first. Either way, there was a much higher chance of all of North America being plunged into an ice age if he went to 'reason' with the winter spirit.

He sighed, "Fine. Have it your way. I didn't really get a close look at him, since he was pretty high in the air, but from what I could tell he has white hair and wears a lot of brown. Pretty skinny, too."

**xXx**

Tracking Jack Frost was surprisingly easy. If he didn't know any better, North might have said that the winter spirit even wanted to be found. After Bunnymund had told him where he had seen Jack, North had hopped into his sled and taken off for a little town in America called Burgess. It was small, but the large Russian didn't even have to search it. There was a flurry of wind and snow that seemed to be centered in the forest at the edge of town. His gut feeling told him that he'd likely find the Spirit of Winter there, so North battled his way through the swirling, stinging snow and landed rather roughly in the forest. Despite appeareances, the weather was calmer here. Then again, storms were usually calmer right at the eye. It was easier for North to make his way through the trees and look around. Eventually he came upon a clearing with a decent-sized pond in the middle.

Jack Frost was at the center of the pond, and seemed to be balancing on a long, curved staff with his head buried in his arms. North wondered briefly how the boy was doing that; was it magic or his actual balance? It was impressive either way. He shook his head. He wasn't here to nitpick over small details. He was here on Bunnymund's behalf, and also so Jack wouldn't get his lights punched out.

The boy raised his head as North approached, staring at him with the clearest yet dullest ice-blue eyes he had ever seen. The expression on his face was so flat and resigned North almost halted on the spot. He looked hopeless and...almost dead, in a way. North wondered what could happen to a person to make them have eyes like that.

However, he wasn't getting anywhere by just staring at him. North cleared his throat and said, "Are you Jack Frost?" The answer was obvious, but he figured he'd might as well ask.

Jack didn't answer out loud, but nodded once and his eyes sparked with a sort of mild interest. North took that as a good sign and continued, "My name is Nicholas St. North, or just North most of the time. We haven't met, but I imagine you've heard of me?"

A nod. Well, that was better than nothing. Jack had yet to say a single word, and North would be lying if he said this wasn't at least a little bit uncomfortable. Everything about this whole encounter seemed off. Everyone always talked about how antisocial the winter spirit seemed to be, yet here he was face-to-face with the full-blown Guardian of Wonder and not only was he not nervous, he actually seemed... rather pleased, in a silent and subdued way. Why was that? Why hasn't he taken off already? He must have known that Bunnymund was not going to simply let the blizzard matter lie, so the Pooka or at least one of his friends would come after him. It didn't make any sense to stick around and let himself be chewed out.

Unless...

North frowned. Did Jack want the attention? Why? If he spent a good deal of time keeping away from others, why was he still with North now? Did he let Bunnymund see him on purpose, because he wanted to get in trouble for it? So far, nothing about Jack Frost made sense. North was fairly certain he'd never been so confused about the behaviorisms of anther spirit, and this was all after only a few minutes of interacting with Jack!

A small cough caught the Russian's attention and he glanced up in surprise. It was the first sound he'd heard Jack make, and the winter spirit was eying him with a somewhat bored and impatient look. It occurred to North that Jack was waiting for him to speak beyond introductions and get to the point.

"Right," he began, crossing his arms, "Jack, Bunnymund is currently up at the North Pole practically rabid because he said you started a blizzard on Easter. That is, earlier today. You buried half of North America in snow. Is that true?"

Another nod, and this time North swore he was able to see the hints of a smile playing around the boy's mouth. Why didn't he speak? He would have thought that Jack would deny the accusation, at least.

"Why did you do it?"

Jack shrugged, definitely smiling now without even trying to hide it. North had to force down a heavy sigh. For God's sake, how was he supposed to scold someone who didn't even respond? He suppressed a shiver as a frigid wind whipped through the clearing. The temperature was definitely in the negatives. It was usually much colder at the North Pole, obviously, but he was typically inside and away from the cold. His job didn't really require him to go outside all that often.

"Well Jack," he continued uncomfortably. "That was a wrong thing to do. It is not polite to ruin another's holiday, and I don't even understand why you did it. You don't usually do things like this, despite your reputation. You might want to apologize to Bunny, too. He put a lot of work into Easter this year and is very unhappy with you."

Jack shook his head silently and absently adjusted the collar of his woolen brown cloak. Finally fed up, North snapped, "Why don't you say anything? I am trying to talk to you! I have an upset rabbit in my home who's waiting for the chance to throttle you, and you're not even going to apologize or even tell me why you did it?!"

The younger immortal looked surprised at the outburst and unsure of how to respond, twisting the hem of his cloak in his long, pale fingers. There was a long moment of tense silence. Eventually giving up, North sighed and turned to leave.

"I suppose this was to be expected," he said with resignation. "I'm sorry for getting irritated, and for bothering you. Nice to meet you, Jack."

As he walked away he swore he could almost hear a response; a hoarse, barely-audible whisper of "Nice to meet you too."

It wasn't until later that North realized that maybe just a conversation, no matter the subject matter, was what Jack was after that whole time.

* * *

**A/N:**

** Guys, if I ever give myself a deadline for chapters, don't believe me. I'm probably lying, or deluding myself at least. ...A full sixty chapters in and I'm **_**just now **_**telling you all this. But this chapter became much longer than I expected, so I imagine that has something to do with it. Happy sixty chapters, by the way.**

** Alright, in my mind the Blizzard of '68 happened in 1868, rather than 1968. Easter of 1968 was in April, when large storms would be uncommon. But in 1868 Easter was in March, when such a thing would be far less unusual, especially in the northern United States and Canada. Hell, here in Montana the weather's actually nice for a change and we're all SUPRISED it's not blizzarding. So yeah. In case anyone was wondering or confused. **

** I don't think Jack planned out this whole "conversation" thing really well. I think he forgot that they're supposed to go both ways between two people, and didn't know how to respond when North got frustrated at him. He didn't think that would happen because he's so unused to speaking to anyone, and likely thought North wouldn't want to hear him speak anyway.**

** God I'm depressing today.**

** I wanna do another arc soon, similar to Under the Darkness. Don't have any ideas, though, just stuff for regular chapters. Anything from the peanut gallery?**


	61. The Nightmare King

**Set pre-movie.**

* * *

Pitch circled the globe in his domain, glaring at the illuminating lights twinkling from the cast-iron continents. Millions of lights there were, and none for him.

Whose fault was that?

His skeletal hands curled into fists at his side and the shadows around him flickered and stretched. It was the Guardians of course, the ones who took all the glory for themselves. Were they not the ones every children in the world paid attention to? Now, that hardly seemed fair, considering how many other spirits there were out there, specifically created by the Man in the Moon with the purpose of guarding the inhabitants of the planet.

But no, the Guardians were the _favorites_, the ones given special powers and rights and what-have-you. Children believed in them, and only in them, while the others were cast off into the shadows, weak and invisible. Luckily for Pitch, the shadows were where he thrived, but that didn't mean he appreciated the notion. He did not appreciate being cast out, rejected, treated as an enemy. He did not appreciate being run through and invisible to those who once knew to respect him.

He used to be the one in control. He used to have believers who properly knew fear. Pitch had never been truly malicious—though lately his limit was being sorely pushed—and had relied on just using fear to make sure the humans knew their place. After all, if one was afraid of something, then they knew to keep away from it, right? They knew to stay away from dangerous things, and those who defied fear ended up put in their place, hurt, or worse. But it wasn't Pitch's fault. He'd given them warnings, after all. It was hardly fair that he was the one everyone blamed when things went wrong.

The man ground his teeth as another wave of fury washed over him. What had the Guardians done to deserve the attention they got? What had they given up? Hadn't he sacrificed just as much as they had, if not more? They hardly knew what true pain, true sacrifice, was. They didn't know how it felt to be weakened and shunned. Well, in Pitch's opinion, they certainly deserved it. And now, he finally had the strength and numbers to give the Guardians their dues.

His face twisted into a nightmarish grin and he couldn't stop the dark chuckle that escaped him. Pitch's grey-gold eyes narrowed as he spoke aloud, "It's your turn not to be believed in."

* * *

**A/N:**

**I wanted to write something about Pitch and then it failed. Whoops. **

**I'm having a lot of fun with the single-line breaks, can you tell? They're BEAUTIFUL.**


	62. Growing Up

She was much too old to believe in him, yet she still did. Bunnymund would never understand that. Sophie was now thirty-two with a small family of her own. She was an adult. Yet every Easter she was out with her little daughter Alice excitedly looking for eggs with the little girl, and staying up late on Christmas to say hello to North, and leaving treats for Tooth's mini-fairies whenever Alice lost a tooth. She was a working single mother with a child, but seemed to be just as much as a child as her daughter. Despite all the hardships in her life-divorcing her husband, having trouble at her library job, things like that-she remained as bright and cheerful as she was when she was young.

Bunnymund visited as often as he could. How could he not? If Jack was allowed to keep in contact with Jamie and his four children then surely he was allowed to spend time with his favorite kid as well. Even if she wasn't a kid anymore. He still showed up on her and Alice's birthdays and lingered around Burgess on Easter playing a sort of hide-and-seek with the two. It felt like Sophie had never grown up at all, and the Pooka was grateful. He knew how it felt not to be believed in, but couldn't imagine how it would be if he couldn't visit Sophie as often as he could. Grumpy as he was, she and Alice could always put him in a good mood and make him laugh.

Alice was so similar to her mother, it was almost unsettling. At five years old she shared Sophie's unwavering belief in spirits and legends, large green eyes, and messy, self-cut (Sophie apparently encouraged this practice) blonde hair. The traditions the Guardians had had with Sophie in regards to holidays and her birthday had passed onto the little girl, and she had a little too much fun bragging to her cousins about it.

Years ago, when Jamie was eighteen, Jack had once flown into the Warren frantic and near tears, though he tried his best to never let it show. Jamie had stopped believing. Though he eventually regained his belief, as soon as Jack was gone Bunnymund had hopped into Burgess in a hurry to make sure the same thing hadn't happened with his sister. He could never deny the relief he felt when Sophie greeted him just as cheerfully as she did every time he visited.

Sometimes on Easter he didn't see Sophie and Alice at all. At least, not directly. But when he knew Sophie wasn't looking, he'd hop over to the kitchen window and leave some eggs. When she came back, he hid in the brush and watched her pick them up and examine them with a smile, then call out softly, "Thank you!"

That was probably the best part. She always knew he was there. She never even had any doubt. Sophie was a true believer, through and through, and Bunnymund couldn't help but think that that was the one thing he had that the other Guardians didn't. Sophie was the thing he had over them; the best believer in the world.

Indeed, the others were pretty jealous.

**A/N:**

** Sophie/Bunnymund friendship was requested :3 However, let it be known that it was around one in the morning when I wrote this so it's really not that great. **

** The name "Alice" is kind of a joke. Alice in Wonderland fell down the rabbit hole and Bunny's a rabbit and he uses tunnels and...I should stop explaining things.**

**I'm updating a bunch at once because I wrote all these chapters and I won't have a chance to post them later today or possibly the whole rest of the weekend. So. **


	63. Taking the Plunge

"You sure about this?"

Jack swallowed and wiped his hands on his trousers, feeling very strange and uncomfortable. It wasn't often that he generated enough heat to actually sweat, so that was a testament to just how nervous he was. He rocked back and forth on his heels, balancing just on the edge of his pond in the woods but going to further than that.

Behind him, Jamie and Sophie stood watching him apprehesively. They weren't used to seeing Jack so anxious either, as he was always the one who tried to wear a constant smile and a mask of confidence. For a long time the two of them were certain he wasn't afraid of anything, but as they got older his facade started to crack more and more often until finally, when Jamie had come home from college for his spring break, the winter spirit had knocked on his window and asked if he could have a bit of help with something.

"Yeah, sure," Jack finally replied with forced optimism, though his hands gripped his staff far too tightly and his whole body was visibly shaking. "It'll be fun."

Jamie highly doubted that. If Jack was afraid, then the probability of something being fun was unlikely. Even the Guardian of Fun couldn't enjoy everything all the time, and it was a safe bet that Jack was not going to enjoy this at all. But it was something he had to do, he'd told the siblings. He had to start getting over his fears.

More specifically, his fear of drowning.

Spring was well underway at this point and Jack's pond had thoroughly thawed out, leaving the water uncovered but still colder than ice. Normally Jack would have cleared out of Burgess by now and moved on to the more wintery regions of the world but, as he told Jamie and Sophie, this issue was something that had been bothering him for a while and he wanted to start moving on and wanted someone he trusted to be there to watch him do it. Why he didn't go to the other Guardians was a mystery, but Jamie didn't think about that too hard. He and Sophie were the ones Jack trusted to give him support, and if that was the case then they would give it to him without a problem.

He'd only recently admitted to having such a fear, and it had taken Jamie off guard. An ice spirit, terrified of water? That didn't make much sense to the young man, but once Jack fully explained why-as in, the circumstances surrounding his death and subsequent transformation into Jack Frost-then he understood. Now here they were, standing at the edge of the fateful pond, and Jack was clearly having second thoughts about all of this. Even though it was the middle of the night and the full moon was shining down brightly. Jamie suspected Jack chose the evening for this specifically because of that reason.

"You don't have to do it at all, you know," Sophie told him soothingly. "If it scares you too much then we can just go home and forget about it until you're ready to try again."

Jack shook his head. "I'm fine. I just need to tell myself, _Hey, you're not gonna die, you're gonna be fine,_ and..." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "This sucks. I'm afraid of _water. _It's pathetic!"

"It is not," Jamie argued. "I mean, it's not like you don't have a good reason."

"I know, I know! But I've been spending like the past fifteen years since I got my memory back avoiding open, unfrozen stretches of water, and things have happened to reinforce that, and I think it's just sad that it's still an issue for me. I drowned over three hundred years ago, you'd think that would be long enough to get over it." Jack let out a hollow, humorless laugh. "Whenever I go over one, I think it's going to reach out and pull me in or something."

Jamie suddenly recalled one day, a long time ago, when he and Sophie had wanted to go ice skating on this very pond. Jack had spent the better part of an hour repeatedly slamming his staff onto the surface, making absolute sure it was completely solid. Suddenly it seemed like the paranoia was not only for the siblings, but for Jack himself as well.

"It might be better to just get it over with," Jamie said. "You know what's happening and you're kind of immortal, so you don't have to be worried about dying again. We wouldn't let that happen, anyway."

Jack was silent for a long moment before mumbling hesitantly, "Once, a while ago, I ended up beneath the pond again. I tried to get out but...with the way I am, I ended up refreezing the ice from underneath. I couldn't get out and it was so dark and there was no air... It was even worse than the first time. What do I do if that happens again?"

"We'll get you out ourselves," Sophie said promptly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "What are we, chopped liver? We're not just here to be observers, we're here to help. That's what you wanted, right? Breaking ice shouldn't be too hard, and we both know how to swim. No big deal."

He turned around to look at them then with fearful blue eyes, and they could almost see the gears turning in his head as he came to his decision. "You're right," he said after a few seconds. He loosened his grip on his staff and handed it back to Jamie, who took it without a word. The winter spirit glanced up at the moon, which seemed to glow brighter in response. Looking slightly more encouraged, Jack stepped out onto the water. It froze under his feet, but just barely, as though he was keeping his powers reigned in so only enough ice leaked out to create a sort of walkway to the center of the pond.

Once he was out there, he hesitated and looked back like he was worried that Jamie and Sophie had vanished and left him alone. Appearing relieved at their presence, Jack looked up at the moon one final time before stepping off his ledge of ice and disappearing down into the dark water.

** A/N:**

** Question: Will Hatsu ever be done with Jack's giant puddle of angst?**

** Answer: Unlikely. **

** I agonized over how to end this chapter, and decided in the end to just leave it ambiguous. I think this will help Jack get over his issues, and maybe you guys should too, if you want. Believe in him. **


	64. Winter Children

The Overland siblings were well-known for having bad luck when it came to winter activities. It was a bit unfortunate, really, considering the pair's love for the season. Indeed, Jack and Rosie both agreed that winter was the best time of year, to the bewilderment of their friends and family. Winter was usually a time of worry and, more often than not, death. There was rarely enough food to go around and if you ran out of firewood in the middle of a heavy storm, your family was as good as dead. Despite all that, however, Jack and Rosie were masters at finding fun things to do until the warm months came.

That didn't mean they were particularly good at whatever they were doing.

It wasn't like they did it on purpose. They usually planned everything out flawlessly in advance, but things just always went wrong when it came to the siblings and winter. It even became sort of a joke in Burgess after a while, and there were those who kept track of every single accident that fell upon the two.

There was the time Rosie slipped on a patch of ice during a snowball fight and broke her wrist.

There was the time Jack fell into an unexpectedly deep snowbank and had to be physically dug out by three of the stronger men of the village.

There was the time they went sledding and got stuck in a blizzard for two or so days.

There was a plethora of accidents to choose from, really. Take your pick; if you can imagine it happening, it probably did. The two of them also had an issue with catching various colds and illnesses from spending too much time out in the cold, though that applied to Rosie more than it did Jack. The odd thing was that it only ever happened to the two of them. None of the other village children

It seemed nothing could dampen their enthusiasm for winter. As soon as they recovered from one mishap or another, they were back at it again, stirring up snowball fights and just enjoying the cold far more than normal people did. Jack even regularly complained that spring and summer were extremely boring and he would prefer it if it were winter all the time. Everyone thought he (and his sister, by extension) was rather mad, but in an endearing way. Every person has their quirks, after all.

It wasn't until the two siblings went out ice skating and only one returned did winter lose its illustrious appeal for the Overland family. But even then it was only temporary, and once the mourning process was over with, Rosie seemed determined not to let grief and paranoia get the best of her. She took over her brother's role after his death and stirred up enough trouble for the both of them. It was like Jack was never gone, and maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was there, in spirit, leading his sister on in their neverending adventure.

After his death Burgess did start to become known for its harsh winters.

And when Rosie was grown up and a mother, she could be seen out on the pond in the winter teaching her children how to skate.

* * *

** A/N:**

** That one line about them going out sledding and getting stranded for days? Yeah I've turned that into a little story of its own, and it'll be up in a bit if anyone's interested. Human-Jack FTW.**


	65. The Annual Argument

** Hey guys. So before I started Snowflakes, I posted a lot of little oneshots that I've just realized would probably work better if they were a part of this story, so I'm going to move them over here. They only really exist because I was having some major feels after the movie came out and I had to dispel a bunch of little ideas. Sorry to anyone who's already read them (which is probably about two hundred of you), I'll get back to the original stuff later once I get over my ever-frequent writer's block.**

**Also, the new story I mentioned last chapter is up, for anyone who has yet to see it.**

* * *

Easter morning, one year after the defeat of Pitch Black. It was sure to be better than the previous year, right? Jamie was certain of it. He sprung out of bed early that morning, tripped over Sophie—who for some reason was curled up on the floor of his room like some kind of dog—and hurriedly got dressed. A look out the window proved to be completely pointless; the whole thing was frosted up, covered in a thin coat of white. Jamie grinned, knowing where that had come from.

He bent down and shook his sister awake. "Come on, Soph, wake up! It's Easter! The Easter Bunny came last night! You wanna go out and find eggs?"

"Easter Bunny...hop hop hop..." she mumbled, stirring slightly. Jamie didn't bother trying again and instead scooped her up, draping the toddler over his shoulder and carrying her like that down the stairs. Sophie was four and he was nine, but it was easy to lift her despite his small stature. She was tiny.

In the kitchen, their mother was making breakfast, but Jamie declined food as he pulled on his jacket and bundled Sophie into hers. The little girl was still rubbing her eyes when Jamie handed over her basket.

"Be careful!" Mrs. Bennett called out as her children headed out the door. "Have fun!"

Jamie turned around, fingers intertwined with Sophie's. "We will!"

The two Bennetts hurried outside, Abby the greyhound following close behind. Only a few steps out the door, Jamie sped to a halt, staring around in wonder. There was about half an inch of snow coating the streets, lawns, and roofs of Burgess, Pennsylvania, the sky was grey and cloudy, and light flakes were drifting through the air. Jamie grinned, and his grip on Sophie's hand tightened as he pulled her forward.

He could see the rest of his friends leaving their houses. Claude and Caleb, the twins, came out together. Cupcake was still pulling on her pink sweater as she dashed out the door, barely keeping a hold of her Easter basket. Pippa and Monty walked together, as they were neighbors. The group met up in the center of the block, red-faced and excited.

"Where should we get started?" Jamie asked breathlessly. "The park? The pond?"

"I vote the park," Claude replied.

"Same," Pippa said.

"Uh, me too," Monty stammered, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Park!" Sophie cheered, blonde tangles flying everywhere.

So it was agreed upon. The group raced off to the nearby park, baskets in tow and the greyhound nipping at their heels. A few of the kids made comments about the snow, and all of them kept an eye out for a flash of white hair and a blue hoodie. They saw nothing along the way, however, and set their attention to gathering eggs. Even in the snow, the brightly colored confectionaries were visible, making them easy to find.

The kids ran around their whole area, searching in every last nook and cranny. Their baskets were nearly full when Sophie, who had wandered out of sight, let out a delighted squeal.

"Easter Bunny! Hop, hop!"

This caught the attention of the older children, and they all exchanged an excited glance before dashing off to look for the toddler. They found her all right, and she hadn't been wrong about her exclamation.

Standing there, cutting a heroic figure against the snowy backdrop, stood the Easter Bunny himself. Looking immensely peeved.

"You're here!" Jamie laughed, bouncing on his heels.

"Yeah, I'm here all right, happy Easter," Bunnymund growled darkly, Easter basket filled with eggs gripped tightly in his hand. Jamie blinked, surprised at the attitude. "Look kids, I'm sorry to cut this short, but I've got a bone to pick with a certain _somebody_ around here."

He shook Sophie off as gently as he could and advanced forward to the center of the park quickly, kids trailing curiously behind. Raising his furry head to the sky, he hollered, "BLOODY FROSTBITE, GET YOUR ICY BEHIND DOWN HERE BEFORE I—"

A frigid wind whipped through the area and a new voice interrupted, "Before you what? Throw an egg at my head?"

The group spun around, looking for the newcomer before locating him overhead. Jack Frost was perched casually on a pole supporting the power lines, a knowing, amused smirk on his face. The children cheered and called out thrilled greetings, which Jack accepted with a little wave of his own.

"Enough of that, you bloody circus freak," Bunnymund called up hotly. "It's snowing!"

"Well, _yeah_." Jack rolled his eyes and stood up and began walking along the power lines themselves, tapping his staff against the wires to freeze them solid.

"There is snow _everywhere!"_

He shrugged. "I fail to see the problem."

"It is Easter!"

"Your point?"

Bunnymund groaned loudly. "You do this _every single bloody year!_ Can't you have a little respect for once in your life?!"

Jack frowned, pondering the question. "I suppose I could," he replied mildly. "But where's the fun in that?" He slung his staff over his shoulders and hopped off the power lines, drifting slowly to the ground.

"'Scuse me, sorry," Jamie interrupted, "but what's going on, exactly?"

Bunnymund turned to the boy, "What's going on here is that your little aggravating friend can't keep his pony tricks to himself for a single, God-forsaken day!"

"The groundhog said I have six more weeks of winter," Jack chipped in from where he now stood, balancing on his staff. "You didn't expect me to give that up, did you?"

"Don't give me that ridiculous excuse, and do not bring the stupid groundhog into this," Bunnymund snapped. "You make it snow on my day whether you have the six weeks or not!"

Jack snorted. "Guess I can't argue with that."

"No you bloody well cannot!"

"Hey, who are we supposed to be rooting for in this argument?" Claude cut in, looking confused. Bunnymund did a double take.

"You aren't supposed to be rooting for anyone!" the rabbit responding irritably, "But if you were, you should root for—"

"—Me," he and Jack finished together. They froze, looking shocked at the idiosyncrasy, before trading off dirty glares.

"Look, I have a right to do whatever I want while it's still winter," Jack picked up again. "Besides, it only seems to bother you."

Bunnymund took a few moments, thrown off balance by that last line, and then he retaliated with, "It's common courtesy to stop on particular days, mate! Seriously, you've been doing this for the last eighty years, just to ruffle my jimmies! Doesn't it ever get old?!"

"Let me thi—nope."

Face blank, Jamie turned back to his friends, taking Sophie's hand again. "You guys wanna keep looking for eggs?"

"I say yes," Cupcake answered, just as flatly.

"I'm okay with that," Pippa chipped in. "Let's go."

The group turned away from the arguing Guardians and resumed their hunt. A few hundred yards away, hovering in the sky overlooking the park, the Tooth Fairy sighed and smoothed back a few of her feathers.

"Well, they're at it again this year... I better go break it up soon." She began to descend, unable to stifle the thought of, _I could have sworn it was North's turn this time._


	66. Closure

He didn't know why he hung around the settlement so much. Jack knew nobody could see him, he knew that they would just walk right through him, and he knew he could leave whenever he wanted. It may have only been a week since he woke up under the moon with no idea who he was aside from a name—_Jack Frost_—and powers he couldn't explain, but he knew that much at least.

So why did he stay? He had no clue. He felt a sort of attachment to the village, a bond that drew him closer every time he strayed too far away. Jack mainly hung out around the pond though, it was too painful watching the humans (that was another thing he knew by default: he was not human) interact with each other. Touch each other, speak to one another. It was hard for him to watch.

In short, it was impossible for Jack to explain to himself why exactly he was perched on a rooftop in the middle of the night, in the village, with a horribly familiar ache in his chest. That was the worst part about this whole thing; he knew this place was familiar. Which made no sense at all. He'd been born out of the ice in the pond and was borderline certain that he hadn't existed before then, so no place in the world should feel familiar, like he belonged there.

Jack sighed and tightened his grip on his staff, frost curling around his fingers and embedding itself into the sturdy wood. It was quiet in the village as it was fairly late at night, save for the hooting of a few owls and a light, chilly breeze rustling the leaves.

Then a different sound cut through the darkness.

Someone crying.

Jack frowned, focusing and trying to find the source of the noise. It seemed fairly close by, maybe a few houses from the left? He jumped off the roof he was perched on and wobbled a bit when the wind caught him a few feet from the snow-packed ground. He really needed to get this flying thing under control. He took a few deep, steadying breaths and focused his attention on the source of the crying. It took a few minutes, due to his clumsiness in the air, but he was able to locate the exact house the sobbing seemed to be coming from.

He didn't see her at first, the little girl. She was tiny and curled in on herself, and it was dark, so how could he have? A closer look revealed she had straight, tawny hair and a round, freckled face. When she attempted to dry her eyes, Jack could see large amber eyes bright with unshed tears.

She almost seemed to look right at him.

Jack couldn't understand the feeling he got then. It was as if he'd been punched in the stomach, the impact leaving him breathless. He stumbled back, eyes never leaving the girl, face stricken and much paler than usual.

He didn't know who the little girl was. He just knew that she was crying and it felt wrong and he wanted her to stop. Rather, he wanted to make her stop crying. He felt like it was just...something he had to do. His duty. But Jack didn't know this girl. He'd never even seen her around the village, during the few rare occasions he had enough courage to venture into it. She clearly lived in this house, but that was the only thing he knew. This girl was a stranger.

He was so immersed in his own thoughts that he didn't immediately notice that she was speaking aloud now.

"...sorry..." she was saying, "I'm sorry... it's my entire fault..."

Jack blinked. "Hey... I'm sure it's not... Well, whatever it is."

He knew she couldn't hear him. But that was the best he could do.

The girl continued to apologize, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'd take it all back if I could. You'd still be...you'd still be okay if I hadn't been so s-stupid..." She sniffled then sneezed, the cold tingling her nose. Jack self-consciously stepped back a few feet.

"I don't think whoever you're apologizing to can hear you," he muttered, feeling like an idiot. Was he this desperate for interaction with somebody, anybody? "It's really late at night, you know. But hey, if something's so bad you have to apologize for it so much then eventually they have to forgive you, huh? If you're genuinely sorry and all."

The girl continued to sob. Jack sighed and gazed up at the ever-silent moon.

_What am I doing?_

"Please come back..." she whispered, drawing her knees up to her chest. "If you do, I'll never do anything stupid again. And you can make me laugh with the antlers and yell, "Rosie, Rosie," whenever you see something interesting around. And we'll be h-happy..." Her voice trailed off with a tiny, pathetic whimper.

"Rosie?" Jack breathed. "That's your name?" A slow, small smile graced his pale features. "Alright, I can work with that."

He'd never seen a rose before, so he wasn't entirely sure how he knew what one looked like, but the end result wasn't too bad. Jack sighed as he stood, brushing off his hands. The little girl's face was hidden in her hands again, so she hadn't seen what he'd been doing.

With a little flick of Jack's wrist, a small chuck of ice flew up and smacked her forehead, effectively catching her attention. She raised her head, frowning, and began to wipe the water away when she saw it.

The perfect outline of a rose, drawn in the snow.

Rosie's eyes widened to impossible proportions and she gasped loudly, hands covering her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes. "J...Ja..."

He blinked. "What?" That was almost...

She didn't finish, however. The tears spilled down, freezing against her cheeks. "Mama!" she called out, twisting to make her voice heard inside the house. "Mama, Papa! Wake up, wake up! You need to see this!" Rosie stood and dashed inside.

Jack smiled a little wistfully. "Hope you feel better, kiddo. See you around."

With that, he took off into the night sky, feeling a little bit better himself.

* * *

**A/N:**

**My friend KokoLolo requested something like this from me, sooo I delivered.**

**So yeah, this takes place a week after Jack wakes up in the pond, so he's still confused about everything at this point. Probably not all that energetic yet. Poor baby.**


	67. Understanding

_"Where were you?"_

_"What have you done?"_

_"He has to go. We should never have trusted you!"_

That was all wrong, and Tooth knew it. Jack hadn't done anything. Pitch had done everything. Pitch had to have, right? Jack knew how important Easter was to the Guardians' victory; he would never deliberately do anything to sabotage it. Pitch distracted him with his memory box, stalled him long enough to destroy Bunnymund's eggs and baskets. She knew that had to be the case. And yet...she still felt disappointed. There was too much going on around her to say anything in Jack's defense, and her mind was in a good amount of ruin as well. The shock of Easter's destruction was affecting them all.

She cast her eyes downwards, unable to look at the winter spirit. Jack remained completely silent, a stricken look marring his features as Bunnymund furiously tore into him for his mistake. Once the rant was over and everything was still, Jack took off into the sky, leaving a frigid chill in the air behind. Bunnymund sat slumped in the grass, Easter basket tipped onto its side and spilling out eggs. It was heartcrushing image, and Tooth sought to ameliorate it as best she could. While North sighed and began gathering up empty, brightly-colored shells, Tooth fluttered—it took more effort than usual, her powers must be wearing off quickly—over to the rabbit and kneeled at his side.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, heaving a deep breath.

"It's not your fault," he muttered back softly, eyes dark. "Not your fault at all. It's the bloody Boogieman and that stupid kid... It's their fault."

"Do you really believe that?" Tooth asked. Bunnymund's shoulders tightened.

"He said he would be here. This wasn't supposed to happen! Everything was supposed to turn around; this was supposed to spell our victory! And you, he lost your last fairy!"

"I know, I know," the fairy soothed hurriedly. "But think about it. Pitch is the master of tricks and fear; it makes sense that he would do everything in his power to stop us, right? Even distracting Jack. Besides, I believe in Baby Tooth. She's a strong one."

Bunnymund sighed heavily. "I guess I'm just in shock. I've never...not been believed in, you know? That little boy...he just ran through me, and I..."

Tooth rubbed her feathered arms, feeling a sudden chill. "You know something? I bet that's how it would feel to be Jack. Not being seen or heard for so long. By anyone. It's not a good feeling."

"I suppose so. But does that mean I have to just buck up, and go about my business like nothing ever happened? That's not bloody likely. This was my holiday."

"And it still is!" Tooth smiled gently. "Come on, let's not completely lose hope here. We can return to the Pole and regroup. There has to be a few more children who still believe." She reached out a tiny hand to her friend. Bunnymund looked at it hesitantly, ears twitching, before reaching out and placing his large paw in hers.

"Alright."

* * *

**A/N:**

**I thought it very curious how, when the Guardians arrived to meet Jack and Jamie at Jamie's house, none of them seemed all that angry at him. I figured a conversation like this had to take place at some point, right? EvenifitsucksbecauseIwroteit beforemyperiodofmajorimprove ment.**

**Guardian friendship to the max.**

**Jack and Bunny are total bros at the end.**


	68. Frosted Glass

There was a person in his room.

A person who had clearly not been there before.

And that person had made a drawing of a rabbit on his window come to life and run around his bed, then burst into snowflakes.

And as soon as that snowflake had touched the tip of his nose, Jamie knew immediately who it was. Who else would make it snow in his room? The Easter Bunny couldn't do that.

"Jack Frost."

From behind him, Jamie could barely hear someone whisper, "Did he just say...?"

Jamie's mouth fell open, and he breathed, "Jack Frost!"

"He said it again!"

Jamie could hear the voice more clearly now, and he turned around slowly. There was a person, a boy, but he certainly wasn't like any other boy Jamie had ever seen. He was very thin and pale, with a messy mop of snow-white hair and ice blue eyes. He held a curved staff in one hand and, at the moment, looked just as stunned as Jamie felt.

The kid gasped one final time, "Jack Frost!"

"That's right!" The older boy's face turned even paler, if that was possible. "But, but that's me! That's my name!" He looked straight at Jamie, eyes filled with wonder. "You said my name!"

Jamie had reached pretty high level of mental shock at this point. All he was capable of doing now was gaping dumbly, mind going completely numb as he stared at Jack Frost with wide eyes. Jack backtracked, "Wait, can you...hear me?"

Jamie nodded wordlessly.

"And...can you see me?"

Another nod.

"He...he sees me!" Jack breathed, as though his entire view of the world had changed instantaneously. "He sees me!"

Jamie shook himself, attempting to regain control of his mind. He moved his mouth, trying to form coherent words. He had to say something, he had to speak and say something smart and, for some reason, Jamie felt the need to make it clear that he really did see Jack Frost, that it wasn't just an illusion.

"You just made it snow!"

Oh jeez. That was the best he could do? Of course he had made it snow, he was Jack Frost!

Jack didn't seem to find the statement as ridiculously obvious as Jamie did. His face lit up and he replied, "I know!"

"In my room!"

"I _know!"_

This wasn't a dream. Jamie jumped up in bed, stifling the urge the cheer loudly. "You are real!"

"Yeah, man!" Jack said exuberantly, matching the little boy's ecstasy. "Who do you think brings you the blizzards, and the snow days? Oh, and you remember when you went flying on that sled the other day?!"

Jamie gasped, the pieces falling into place. The way he had suddenly just taken off, the way the ice seemed to govern itself and always carry him out of harm's way. It had taken him on a completely wild ride, one that couldn't have been governed by mere forces of nature. "That was you?!"

"That was me!"

"But..." Another question sprung to his mind. "What about the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy? Are they—"

"Real, real!" Jack answered quickly, happily. He scooped up Jamie's stuffed rabbit from where it had been dropped onto the floor and handed it back to the boy. Jamie could feel the cold radiating from the spirit's skin as he took the rabbit back and hugged it tightly. "Every single one of us is real!"

"Whoa!"

Jamie froze when he heard his mother calling up the stairs, "Jamie? Who are you talking to?"

"Um..." the boy looked to Jack for help. Jack just smiled understandingly and nodded towards the door as if to say, _Go ahead. _"Jack Frost?"

Mrs. Bennett laughed. "Okay..."

Jamie looked back to Jack disbelievingly. Jack returned the look with a broad grin of his own. Was this seriously happening? Jamie now had pure, solid proof that everything he had believed in was true and that he hadn't been dreaming the previous night. This was amazing! But wait... if Jack was here, where were the others? Easter Bunny, Santa, Tooth Fairy...all of them?

Suddenly, there was a rumbling from outside. Jack's smile vanished and he rushed to the window, sticking his head out. His eyes widened at whatever he saw, and he turned to Jamie with a suddenly serious and desperate expression. His long, freezing fingers gripped Jamie's small shoulders.

"Okay listen, here's the deal," he said hurriedly, "There's this really bad guy who's going around making kids stop believing in people like me."

"Like Santa?" Jamie blinked, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Yes, just like him. The Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy, too." Jack's gaze intensified. "Jamie, you're the last kid that still believes in them—I mean _us_. We need your help."

"M-Me? What can I do?"

Jack held out one hand. "You can come and help us out. You up to it?"

Was he?

Jamie already knew the answer. He reached out and took Jack's outstretched hand.

"Of course."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Kinda boring, I think, but this was my very favorite part in the movie and I wanted to look at it from Jamie's point of view. It was just...so cute and heartwarming... Yeah, I already posted a chapter like this a while ago, but whatever.**


	69. Winter Spirit

New spirits being born was kind of a big deal. They may not be Guardian status, but the fact of the matter was that there were a considerably low number of immortals in the world, and a new one hadn't been created for a long while, not since the Thanksgiving turkey man...thing. However, every time a new spirit was put into place by the Man in the Moon—who rarely deemed living beings worthy of immortality, hence the reason there were so few of them—the Guardians always made sure to watch.

Always made sure to watch the birth, that is.

Some people had the wrong idea about the 'birth' of an immortal. It wasn't like a baby being born, it was more of a rebirth than anything; the stripping away of the old, mortal life to be replaced with power, magic, and wonder. Every spirit had a purpose. The Leprechaun spread color, wealth, and light, Cupid spread love and care, even the Thanksgiving turkey-man-thing spread...well, thankfulness. Things and emotions people, not just children, needed.

Thus, when the Man in the Moon announced to North and the other Guardians that a new spirit would be put into place, that was reason enough for the four to gather at the North Pole to watch the event. None of them knew anything about whom or what was being given immortality and joining their ranks.

"I swear to Uluru, if it's another bloody groundhog, I'm skipping out," Bunnymund growled, ears twitching in anticipation and irritation.

"Calm down, it can't be that bad, right? Besides, we can't possibly have two groundhogs," Tooth replied optimistically, looking excited. "Oooh, I'm really looking forward to it. I wonder what they'll be like!" A few of her fairies twittered around her head, mirroring her excitement.

"As long as they care for children, does not matter what they be like," North chipped in gruffly, his heavy Russian accent making his words sound sterner than usual. "It's almost midnight, when will Manny's show start?"

"Yikes," Bunnymund raised his eyebrows, "In a touchy mood, are we?"

"It is five days until Christmas, I have work to do!"

"As do I, but I'm here anyway, and so is Sandy," Tooth pointed out, gesturing to the Sandman. Sandy smiled and flashed thumbs up. North just groaned and rubbed his eyes.

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" The large man turned to the wide opening in the roof of his workshop, silvery moonlight filtering through. "Manny, let's go!"

"Hey, be respectful," Tooth scolded.

The Man in the Moon didn't seem to mind North's attitude much, however, and put his effort into pulling up the large crystal in which the viewing would take place. The group settled closely around the object, gazing deep into the murky depths. There was nothing but darkness for a moment, and then the image cleared.

It showed a pond, a frozen one in a snowy clearing, surrounded by large, thick trees. There were no people in sight at all, and nothing lay on the solid ice apart from an oddly curved branch in the middle.

"Something feels weird, mates," Bunnymund murmured. "There's no one here."

Sandy made a shushing gesture, and the rabbit clamped his jaws shut and returned his attention to the crystal. The Guardians sat in silence for a few more long minutes, before Tooth gasped softly.

"Look at the ice."

The others leaned forward in surprise. The ice covering the pond was cracking, and something was emerging from underneath. No, not something—_someone._ It was a person, who seemed perfectly human, but there were a few things off. He was coming out of solid ice, for one, and didn't seem to be wearing any shoes. His ruffled hair was a frosty shade of white.

"That looks a smidge uncomfortable," Bunnymund breathed, remarking upon how most people would have the telltale signs of hypothermia at this point.

The boy in the crystal floated upwards for a fraction of a second before seeming to come to; his eyes blinked open, revealing irises a clear, icy shade of pale blue. In fact, everything about his immediate person seemed pale, from his hair to his skin. He gazed up at the moon for a moment, a look of wonder on his youthful face.

At that moment, a thought flashed through the minds of the Guardians, courtesy of the Moon Man himself, and they knew who this boy was, his name, and his purpose.

_Jack Frost._

The name was indication enough of his personal power.

"A winter spirit?" Bunnymund gaped, bewildered. "Do we really need one of those?"

"Interesting," North commented, leaning back and stroking his impressive beard. "We've never had a representative for a particular season before. He is not a winter spirit, he is _the _winter spirit. Big difference."

"Excuse me? Aren't I spring?"

"You are hope and new beginnings, so, no."

"That's basically spring, you knobhead."

"Guys, guys!" Tooth called over, interrupting the inevitable argument. "Come look at this, come here!"

North and Bunnymund sent each other a final dirty look before turning back to the crystal. Inside, Jack Frost had picked up the stick that had been lying on the pond and was now running around with it, spreading ice and snow all over the area, laughing.

"He's adorable," Tooth sighed, looking on gently.

"He better learn how to use that stick properly," Bunnymund noted critically as the wind swooped in and accidentally carried the boy off with it. "Otherwise he's just going to be nothing but trouble. He's just a kid, too. I've never seen one so young before."

"Oh, be nice, he's new. You can't expect him to be perfect at everything."

"As long as he doesn't mess with Easter, I have no problem, believe me."

"Oh really?"

"Jack Frost," North said softly, a gleam in his eyes. "Welcome to the world."

* * *

**A/N:**

**I just like the idea of this happening. Okay, I'm done with the reposts now.**


	70. Friendship

Of all people Jamie Bennett and his group expected to befriend, Cupcake was not one of them. The large girl always looked angry and seemed to prefer being by herself, and it was clear she didn't have many friends. Intentionally or not, she always scared people off. Jamie himself was pretty scared of her, and the rest of his friends were as well. It was unfortunate for them that they all lived in the same neighborhood and were in the same class at school, so there was no avoiding the mass of intimidation that was Cupcake. She lurked around whenever they played outside in the park, but they all took care to avoid her even when she never came very close.

It was a funny thing, Cupcake's name. It wasn't her real name, everyone knew that (though they had all very surprised the first day of school when the teacher called out her real name when taking attendance and she had answered) but for some reason that's how she introduced herself and that's what everyone called her. It wasn't a frightening nickname at all, but it didn't lessen the fear. She seemed violent, too. She punched the school bully in the face once and got them both suspended for three days. She was always scowling and marched everywhere, and the rock T-shirts she always wore didn't help.

So naturally, when Pippa nailed Cupcake with a snowball to the back of the head, the whole group was expecting to get pounded into the ground. She turned slowly on her heel with a menacing scowl on her face, crushing the bird plushie she held between her beefy fists and growling. Then, out of nowhere, another snowball came flying and smacked her right in the face.

As she stumbled back and blinked snow out of her eyes, they all thought they were dead. Even if nobody had any idea who had thrown it.

However, what happened next was difficult to explain or understand. Rather than turning Pippa into mincemeat, a bubbly giggle escaped Cupcake's mouth and the happiest expression anyone had ever seen on her lit up her face. A few minutes later she was chasing after them, but it wasn't out of rage or any desire to exact revenge. She was laughing with them, and before they knew it they were all playing together as if she'd been apart of their group for ages.

When Jamie's mother called the children in for hot chocolate, Cupcake lingered near the back and turned to leave when they trooped up the porch steps of his house. Jamie looked back uncertainly and hesitated, thinking it over before telling her, "Hey, you can come in too if you want."

That was all it took. One little invitation, and the most feared girl in school was playing around and best friends with the rest of them. Everyone just having fun, no thought given to past reputations that were quickly proven to be untrue.

Which, Jamie realized later, was probably all Cupcake wanted in the first place.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Check out my cannon fodder. Here, have this until I get inspired again. I thought about naming this chapter "Friendship is Magic" but then decided I'd better not because I'd never live that down. Sorry **_**and/or **_**you're welcome. **

**Welp, we've hit 3000 reviews and seventy chapters. Holy fuck. What am I doing right, I want to apply it to my other writings. I still have no honest-to-God idea what I'm doing to get myself this popularity. Thank you all so very, very much for it, in any case. I love you guys. **


	71. Hidden

Baby Tooth knew how important being believed in was to Jack. She hadn't spent much time around the winter spirit, having only known him for less than two days, but from looking at the way he reacted to people bringing up the issue as well as the conversations he had with Pitch, it honestly wasn't hard to figure out. She liked being believed in too, so she understood the sentiment and really did feel bad for her friend.

It was amazing how close she and Jack had become in the span of just a couple days, or even less than that. It had started with him saving her from the Nightmares, and that was really all it took for Baby Tooth to latch on to him. She knew he didn't mean to leave her behind in Pitch's domain, and he sure made up for that when he traded his staff for her, even if it didn't work. And when she was freezing from the terrible Antarctic temperatures, he tried to warm her up. That hadn't worked either, but it was the thought that counted.

Long story short, they were friends and they looked out for each other. So when Jack went off to visit the last light, the last believer, of course Baby Tooth went with him. She could have stayed and kept her sisters company in their cages, but what good would that have done? None of them could fly, after all. It was much better (and far less boring) to be with Jack, out saving the world, or whatever it was they were doing by charging into an eight-year-old's bedroom in the middle of the night.

The fairy was honestly just as surprised as Jack when it turned out that Jamie was able to see him, and she was truly happy for her friend. She liked the way he laughed and jumped around and just how excited he was about the whole thing. Jack finally had a believer, and she was happy for him.

Baby Tooth loved Jack.

Really.

However, she did not appreciate being stuffed into his uncomfortably-cold hoodie pocket with a clanking memory box while all of this was happening.

* * *

**A/N:**

** I was watching the movie again and I wondered where Baby Tooth went during the climax and suddenly **_**this**_** happened. Also I haven't written a Baby Tooth chapter in a while, so. **

** I like writing Baby Tooth as a snarky little sassmaster. I think it's kind of adorable.**

** Thanks for reading! Till next time!**


	72. A Little Fall of Rain

Tooth fought back tears as she looked down at the little girl in front of her. She forced a smile and smoothed a lock of the child's stringy dark hair behind her ear. The girl grinned, showing the fairy the gap in her smile where her one of her front teeth had come out. She couldn't have been more than seven or eight, but with her tiny size she looked far younger. She was clearly very sick and starving, and huddled into a small alcove in an alley to keep warm in the autumn chill. Rain drizzled down, soaking Tooth's feathers and the girl's ragged, threadbare dress.

"You're really p-pretty," the child spoke first, gazing up at her in wonder and wrapping her chapped hands around her arms. She tucked her feet under her legs in a vain attempt to keep warm. Water droplets dripped from her hair and she stifled a sneeze.

"Thank you very much. What's your name, darling?" Tooth asked softly, fighting to keep her voice steady. She didn't want the child to be frightened or uncomfortable around her.

"G-Gabrielle," the little girl stammered, her teeth chattering. She began to cough, loud and wet hacks shaking her skinny frame. When she straightened up and wiped her mouth, Tooth was horrified to see flecks of blood around her mouth and on her hand.

However, she forced herself to keep that comforting mask she had donned, to keep smiling as she said, "Gabrielle, you've lost some teeth. Would you like to trade me for them?"

Gabrielle's large brown eyes widened and her pale, thin face broke into a broad smile. "Are y-you the Tooth F-fairy?"

"Yes, I am."

"T-The other kids said you weren't real." Gabrielle broke into another coughing fit, curling in on herself as she struggled to catch her breath. Tooth rubbed her back with slow, soothing circles; the little girl burned with fever but shook with chills at the same time. She probably didn't have much longer to live, as was often the case with street children in the filthy cities like London and Paris.

Tooth swallowed and took a deep breath. "Of course I'm real. I'm here, aren't I?"

Gabrielle nodded and slumped back against the wall, her breathing labored and ragged. "I'm tired..." she said weakly, and her eyes nearly closed.

"I know, I know," Tooth replied, reaching out and stroking the girl's hair. "But it's alright, I'm here. You're going to be alright."

It seemed like Gabrielle was trying to believe that herself. Her mouth quirked up in a tiny smile and she leaned into Tooth's hand. "C-Can you stay with me? Until I fall asleep..."

"Of course, sweetheart," Tooth choked out. Why couldn't she have gotten here sooner? Why couldn't she have helped more? "But don't fall asleep just yet. Do you want your gift? It's what I came to give you, after all."

Gabrielle's eyes were entirely closed now, and her breathing was slower. "Mmm-hmm..." was all she managed to get out. She coughed a little, but it was far weaker than before. Tooth took her hand and uncurled her fingers, pressing the coin she had brought into Gabrielle's small palm. As she did, the little girl's breathing stuttered until finally, it stopped altogether. She was still smiling, just a little.

"Sleep well," Tooth whispered, now allowing herself to cry. She wrapped Gabrielle's fingers around the coin and kissed her forehead before opening her wings and taking off into the sky, the rain blurring her vision and masking her tears.

You couldn't save every child. There was no getting around it.

But that didn't make it hurt any less.

* * *

**A/N:**

**So this is what I do on a Friday night. Hm, it didn't turn out quite how I wanted, but whatever. It's late. **

**If you recognized the reference in the title, you probably knew where this chapter was going right from the start. Good job. If anyone didn't recognize it, the title is from Les Miserables and in that song, a girl is dying. (Eponine, no...**_***gross sobbing*)**_

**Till next time!**


	73. Comfort

**Takes place during the brief period of time in which Jamie stopped believing.**

* * *

Bunnymund couldn't remember all the times Jack had popped up in his warren and he'd asked, "What are you doing here?" It seemed rare that Jack actually had a reason to show up, other than a sudden need to annoy the Pooka and mess with his Easter preparations. Sometimes he just wanted a place to sit back and relax without being harassed by anyone. None of those were very good reasons, though. Jack just showed up because he felt like it most of the time.

A true, good reason was very unusual, and on this particular day in April Bunnymund wasn't really expecting much as he hopped over to the winter spirit who had just landed rather roughly on the ground. This occurrence wasn't anything unusual, but he could tell almost immediately that something was wrong. The winter spirit's hood was up, his posture slouched, and the grass beneath his feet turned brown and shriveled away when he touched it. It was small, but a loss of control like that didn't usually happen unless he was upset.

"Well?" Bunnymund said with a bit of uncertainty, "What is it this time?"

He wasn't prepared for Jack to look up at him with the most anguished expression he'd ever seen on the boy's face.

"It's Jamie," Jack replied in a dead whisper.

Bunnymund frowned, worry creasing his brow. "Jamie? What about him, is he hurt?" If Jack was worried, that usually wasn't a good sign. He was usually so carefree.

Jack shook his head. "N-no, it's nothing like that, he..." He swallowed, and if Bunnymund didn't know better he would have thought that he was about to cry.

"He doesn't believe in me anymore."

Bunnymund's stomach dropped as suddenly everything made sense.

"You're sure?" he asked first.

A sullen nod this time. "Yeah, I'm sure. You know how today's his birthday? I dropped in to talk for a bit and when I got there he was with some of his friends, and...and he was looking at Sophie's present for him, some book fantasy-related...and his friend asked something like, 'You don't really believe in that stuff still, do you?' and...and Jamie said no."

Jack took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing, "I wanted to be sure, so when they started walking I stepped in front of him, and..."

He broke off suddenly and covered his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie, leaving Bunnymund to fill in the pieces on his own.

"He walked through you, didn't he?"

Alright, maybe he could have phrased that with a bit less bluntness, but it didn't seem to have any effect on Jack as he nodded, dropped his arm, and faced the Pooka with the unconvincing smile he and the other Guardians knew so well.

"Yeah, he did," Jack replied, forcing acceptance into his voice as he leaned on his staff, swaying slightly in the breeze. "But I'm used to that, aren't I? Every kid stops believing at some point. I'll get over it eventually."

Bunnymund sighed. _Here we go. _"You're doing that thing again."

Jack blinked. "What thing?"

"The thing where you try to pretend everything's all peachy with you when in reality you're just hiding how much something bothers you." Bunnymund sighed. "Honestly Frost, why did you come here? You didn't just drop by to tell me something bad like this and then take off like nothing happened. Come on, I've known you for a while. I can tell when you're faking, so why not drop the act and tell me what's really on your mind?"

Jack genuinely did smile at that, though it was still far sadder than usual. "Not much gets by you, huh?" He heaved a sigh and sank down to the grass, dropping his head into his hands. Bunnymund crouched next to him to hear him say quietly, "It's just... I never thought it would happen. Not to him. I know kids stop believing all the time, but..."

He looked up and Bunnymund could clearly see tears in his eyes. "Look, I was invisible for _three hundred years. _I still am, for the most part. Jamie was the first kid to see me, _ever. _We've been friends for years because of it. And I guess I just thought that, after everything we did together, that wasn't ever going to go away."

Jack sighed again. "Guess I was wrong," he mumbled.

"Ah, of course you would be upset," Bunnymund said, awkwardly placing a paw on Jack's shoulder. Comforting people really wasn't his strong point, especially this kid. "He was your first believer, and all that. I remember when I lost mine. It's a hard thing for anyone, and especially for you. But you just gotta buck up and move on. There'll be more kids in the future."

"He was my friend, though."

"I know. But he'll always be your friend, even if he doesn't know it. You'll always be there, right?"

Jack nodded wordlessly.

"Well there you go."

Something that might have been a smile crossed the winter spirit's face. "Thanks...a lot. It'll take a while to get over, and maybe I won't, but...thanks anyway."

Bunnymund sighed and relaxed. "Oh thank God. For a second there I was worried you were gonna run off in tears. Why do you even come here anyway? I'll be honest, I'm the least-bloody-sensitive guy I know."

The younger immortal shrugged. "You're just honest, I guess. You don't sugar-coat things like Tooth or North would."

"I can't imagine Tooth would sugar-coat anything. Bad for your teeth, that is."

He got a small laugh from that.

"You're right," Jack said after a moment, standing and brushing himself off. "But someone being honest is kind of what I need."

"What are you going to do now?"

Jack hesitated, thinking it over. "I think...I'm going to go see Sophie. Jamie should be out of the house so I won't have to see him. I doubt it'd happen to her, but I just want to check..."

"Makes sense," Bunnymund nodded. "When you're done, you should tell me the news. I worry about her too."

The winter spirit nodded and took off into the air without another word, sending one more grateful glance down his way. Bunnymund sighed again. Being Jack Frost's emotional babysitter had its ups and its downs, but at the end of the day he was always surprised at how...satisfied it made him. Like he'd done some good for someone. While he still couldn't figure out for the life of him why Jack would choose him of all people, considering how most of the time he and Bunnymund couldn't stand each other, Bunnymund couldn't find himself minding much. Especially in situations like these, where he could understand Jack's pain all too well.

A small twinge of worry worked its way to the forefront of his mind. Maybe he'd have to visit Sophie himself soon, if only for the peace of mind.

* * *

**A/N:**

**I dunno. I got nothing much to say. I'm really hungry.**

**Shoutout to Scriptor Sapiens, who has been reading and reviewing every. Single. Chapter. Good on you, sir. I don't think you're done yet, so I imagine you'll get a lovely surprise when you get to this. **

**Till next time!**


	74. Making Believers

**Second part of "Comfort".**

* * *

"Just watch," Sophie said with a bright smile, folding her hands behind her back and rocking on her heels. "This is going to be a cinch."

"I don't know about that," Jack replied uncertainly, staring across the park at the groups of children playing around. "If it was as easy as you say it will be, the past three hundred years wouldn't have been so rough and, well, lonely."

The fourteen-year-old cracked her knuckles, making Jack wince. "Yeah, but you didn't have me back then. Stop underestimating my abilities."

Jack sighed. "You know I appreciate what you're trying to do, Soph, but I honestly don't think it's going to make much of a difference."

"Will you stop being such a downer?" she frowned, "I'm trying to make you feel better."

He had to smile at that. That really was what she was trying to do. After visiting Bunnymund at the Warren and spilling out what had happened with Jamie earlier that day, Jack had flown back up to Burgess to make certain that the same thing hadn't happened to Sophie. Her cheerful greeting to him made it clear she still believed, and she was positively livid when she heard what had happened to Jamie. In fact, her first instinct was to march up to her brother and beat some sense in to him, or just yell at him a lot, and it had taken quite an amount of persuasion from Jack to get her to switch to this course of action instead.

It was Sophie's idea, after she had calmed down, to come out to the park across the street and get Jack some more believers. A task which she was going at like a madwoman with a no-nonsense attitude. Jack was honestly surprised; who knew a fairly quiet girl who drew fairies and rabbits and had ballet slippers hanging on the pastel-pink walls of her bedroom could be so fiery when she had her mind set on something? Well, whatever. He didn't particularly mind, because Jack was just happy Sophie hadn't left him behind also. And even though he didn't really believe that her plan-to just go up to a group of kids and point Jack out to them-would work, he truly did appreciate her for trying.

"Right then!" Sophie said with her hands on her hips, "You ready to get started, sir?"

Jack was three hundred and twenty-eight years old. Sophie was fourteen.

It really was amazing what a firm hold she had on him.

He sighed resignedly. "I suppose..."

"Great!"

Sophie stuffed her hands in her pockets and strolled casually up to a group of children composed of maybe five or six seven-year-olds. They stopped playing and turned to look at her as she approached, clearly not seeing Jack as he trailed behind.

"Hello," the older girl greeted, brushing a lock of tangled blonde hair behind her ear. It fell uselessly back into her face. "Hey, wanna hear a story?"

"Who are you?" one of the boys who appeared to be the leader asked, looking rightfully suspicious.

"Oh. I'm Sophie. Who are you?"

"Keenan," the boy said, visibly relaxing when Sophie said her name. His friends, two other boys and two girls, introduced themselve as well. Jack thought privately that someone would have to teach these kids about stranger danger sometime, even if Sophie herself was rather small and unimposing and couldn't be a danger to small children if she tried.

Sophie smiled. "Nice to meet you guys. Can I ask you something?"

"What?" said one of the girls, whose name was Nicole, "You said you wanted to tell us a story."

"Yes, but I have to ask you something first. Do you guys still believe in Santa and the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy?"

"Of course we do," a boy called Corey replied, rolling his eyes. "They're real. Everyone knows that, until you get old." He narrowed his eyes at Sophie, "_You're _old. Why do you believe in them?"

"Because they are real, just like you said," Sophie said smoothly, sitting cross-legged on the snowy ground and ignoring the _old_ jibe. "But what if I told you there was someone else you could believe in?" Intrigued, the children gathered around her.

"Oh yeah? Like who?"

Sophie's smile widened. "Jack Frost."

Jack had to hand it to her; Sophie had a talent for storytelling. The children were enraptured as she began to go into detail about everything she'd seen him do, from freezing things to stirring up storms to flying to making frost drawings come to life. A small spark of hope ignited in his chest as he watched the kids get really into her stories, watching her jump around to imitate his flying with wide eyes. Was it really this easy? Why hadn't he asked for her help before?

When Sophie paused for breath, Nicole frowned and asked, "Is this really real? Why haven't we seen this Jack guy before?"

"Because he's invisible," Sophie said bluntly. "You have to believe in him to see him, just like Santa and the Easter Bunny. Do you believe him him?"

There was a long pause as the children looked around at each other, then Keenan jumped up and exclaimed, "Yes!" The other kids followed suit, swarming around Sophie and asking when they'd be able to see Jack for themselves.

"He's right over there," Sophie said, pointing in Jack's direction. The kids turned and, with eyes full of wonder, gasped in surprise when they saw the winter spirit for the first time. Jack was just as surprised himself. After three hundred years of being alone, and then another ten with a grand total of just seven believers, he'd convinced himself that that was the best he could do. He'd never imagined it to be this easy, but in just a few minutes Sophie had completely demolished that belief.

"H-Hey," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Do you guys want to have a little fun?"

The kids cheered, and Sophie looked over their heads and mouthed, "Told you so!"

Jack grinned and shook his head. "Very impressive."

"I know," she replied shamelessly, stretching her arms. "Things are looking up for us, Jackson."

With that, the group began a long game in the early April snow. Jack put the question of how Sophie knew his full name out of his mind and instead enjoyed the feeling of not being invisible, the hollowness that had filled him since his discovery of Jamie's disbelief beginning to ebb away.

* * *

**A/N:**

** I'm officially on spring break, woo! This makes me happy. I'm going to have so much time to write and do stuff. I'm excited. All my friends are in Seattle for Sakura Con right now, which is a little depressing because I'm stuck here, so I'm going to rely on you guys to keep me company for a bit. Is that alright?**

**Also, I have a new story-related poll on my profile, if anyone cares to check it out.**

** Thanks for reading! Till next time!**


	75. Pitch Black's Inner Fangirl

"Look how _fluffy_ you are..."

The shadowy hand reached out and pantomimed a stroking finger and, visibly suppressing a shudder, the shrunken Pooka darted back into North's hand.

"Don't you even think about it!"

Pitch wanted to pet him. He wanted to pet him so badly. Bunnymund was so small and adorable and Pitch hated his guts, just as he hated the rest of the Guardians. Pitch hated them all and he would never stop hating them, as far as he knew. They'd caused him too much trouble and pain.

But for crying out loud, Bunnymund was _cute. _It was almost unbearable. Pitch couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to cuddle an enemy so badly, but he knew if he did, it'd be a disgrace to himself as a villain and he would lose this battle for sure and nobody would ever take him seriously again. So instead he just sighed, put his Nightmare King face on again, and went out to face his opponents.

"You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you all like this..."

That was the truth.

Seeing a cute little bunny trembling in the shadows pleased him to no end, and for the first time since he had begun his crusade against the Guardians, Pitch was beginning to regret his decisions.

* * *

** A/N:**

** Happy April Fools, I have eaten nothing but sugar today.**

** How come whenever I write a crack-ish chapter, Pitch is always involved? Anyway. I haven't really done anything completely evil lately, unless you count A Little Fall of Rain. I should start brainstorming on that. It'll be when you least expect it...**


	76. Unfriendly Fire

**This chapter is a bit of a crossover with How to Train Your Dragon. Why? Because I feel like it. Set pre-movie, maybe ten or twenty years after Jack's rebirth.**

* * *

When Jack took a trip to visit a group of islands just northeast of Iceland, he was not expecting to find dragons.

Iceland was supposed to be a fairly cold place, hence its name, and the various archipelagos that surrounded it and stretched closer to Norway and the Arctic Circle were apparently even more so. When Jack heard about that, what was he expected to do? He was honestly tired of always hanging around America, Canada, and places like Russia. He'd never really gone any further north than the middle of Sweden, so places like that were still a complete mystery. He wanted to go investigate, so he did. He took off from North America and touched down on a remote island somewhere around Iceland less than two days later.

That was where the dragons came in. No sooner than he'd begun to spread a little snowfall around the place, he'd almost been knocked out of the air by something huge and red and, startlingly enough, completely on fire. He fell haphazardly to the ground, only barely avoiding a full-on crash, and the big fiery thing followed him. When he got back on his feet and turned around, he found himself face-to-face with what looked like a gigantic flaming lizard.

His first reaction was disbelief. He'd seen dragons in picture books, and only in those books. They weren't real, they were fairy tales, just children's stories. Then Jack realized that he wasn't one to be calling something nonexistent because it was a children's story, seeing as he wasn't much more than just that himself. This dragon looked like a monster that had crawled out of somebody's nightmares, and there was no doubting it existed.

It leaned in close and its hot breath, smelling strongly of fish and brimstone, washed over Jack, heating the already uncomfortably-hot (to the winter spirit) area to an even higher temperature. The dragon's amber eyes narrowed when he caught a whiff of the boy, able to smell that he was clearly not from the island and smelled like winter. Strange humans and cold: both of those things disagreed with dragons to an extent.

Jack began to feel fear now, because this dragon was very real and very hot and not looking all that friendly. Jack always thought that he'd be happy to be seen by someone, or something. Not this time. He eyed the large crimson wings on the beast's back and adjusted his grip on his staff. Would he be able to use the wind to out-fly this thing? Would it chase him?

Thankfully, he didn't have to make a choice about what to do, because at that moment a group of five or six large, armed, and fur-clad men with impressive beards charged through the underbrush, hollering and waving their axes at the dragon cornering Jack. The dragon made a noise of surprise, whirling away from the winter spirit and shooting a long tendril of fire at the men before opening its massive wings and taking off towards the sky. Shaken by the close call, Jack sank down to the ground and tried to get his trembling under control. He was actually glad the new arrivals couldn't see him. He really didn't want to explain himself to them.

The men, who upon closer inspection wore horned helmets and spoke a language Jack was unfamiliar with, snapped angrily at each other and ran off again in the direction the dragon had gone. It was a long time before Jack was able to stand again, to his embarrassment. As soon as he was able, he immediately left the island, ignoring the village he saw on his way out as he sped off in the direction of the mainland.

It took a few more years before he was able to work up the courage to go anywhere north of Denmark after that.

* * *

**A/N:**

** Ignore the time differences between HTTYD and RotG, please. I don't know why I did this, and I'm not all that satisfied with it, but whatever. **


	77. It's Nice Down South

Jamie grunted as he struggled to lift the cardboard box filled with books. Why did he have to take so many? He wasn't even there yet, and so far college wasn't fun. Not to mention all the money he spent buying the stupid things. He'd be living on croutons and ninty-nine-cent ramen cups until he could get a job, once he got down to the town his school was in.

"So what I don't understand is," Sophie panted, having a similar problem with the box she carried, "why you chose a school all the way down in South Carolina. I mean, there's a college right here in town you could have applied to and then we wouldn't have to haul all your crap out of your room. You could just live right here at home."

"USC has what I want," Jamie answered, setting his box down at the bottom of the stairs and wiping his forehead. "And it's not too far away, not really. I'll be home during winter, spring, and summer breaks, and maybe sometimes I can drive up on the weekends. It'd only take like ten hours."

Sophie glanced out the window at the driveway and raised her eyebrows. "It'd take a lot longer than just ten hours with _your_ car."

"Hey! It's a nice car! I bought it with my own money and everything."

"It is a tin can. How are we even going to fit all these boxes into it?"

"I don't know. Lay down the back seats or something."

Jamie bent down to get his box again, breather finished. The two made it all the way outside and out to the older boy's "tin can" of a car. It really wasn't that bad of a vehicle, for the price Jamie had gotten it for, and his mom helpfully provided insurance for him. Sophie didn't really have anything good to say about it, but she honestly didn't have much good to say about anything. She got snarkier with age, though Jamie knew she really was a sweet kid on the inside. But at the same time, he shuddered to think of what she would be like as an adult if this was what she was like at age fourteen. She managed to combine grown-up eloquence with biting sarcasm, to almost too great effect.

"But anyway," Sophie picked up, leaning against the car and shielding her eyes from the early summer sun. "Back to our conversation. Why so far away? There has to have been other colleges that have what you want, even though I still have no idea what that might be."

"I don't know," Jamie shrugged. "Just felt like it, I guess. It sounds nice down there."

"Welllll," she drew out the word. "It is nice. So nice it _doesn't snow_."

It took Jamie a moment to see what she was getting at, with her sharp tone and pointed look, and when he did get it he felt like smacking himself. Of course she would bring that up. Not that he particularly minded though, and he honestly wished he'd thought of it himself. He suppressed a sigh. Sophie had been dropping hints like that all week, now that he thought about it, and now he realized that this was something she really wanted to talk about.

"You're right, it doesn't," he agreed. "But like I said, I'll be home for a few weeks during winter and spring, so it's not like..." Jamie trailed off, not knowing where to go from there. He took a deep breath and took a different route, "You know I picked USC during..._that _time."

"I know," Sophie huffed, crossing her arms. "I still wish you'd picked someplace closer, at least where it does usually snow in the winter. He gets lonely, you know."

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Jamie answered slowly, "Jack does still have you."

She scoffed, "It's not the same. You're his favorite."

"No way. He's had you longer than me."

Sophie turned her head at him and her green eyes narrowed dangerously. "Uh, no. I'm Bunny's favorite, everyone knows that. _You're_ Jack's favorite."

Jamie threw his arms in the air. "They're not even supposed to have favorites! Out of all the kids in the world, why us? I mean, I'm technically a legal adult now, and you're more-or-less a teenager. We're not even kids anymore."

Sophie shrugged. "'Cause we're awesome, I guess. And you were the first kid to believe in Jack. Of course he likes you best."

Jamie smiled grimly and shook his head. "I stopped believing, though. You didn't."

His sister groaned and flopped down onto the pavement, glaring up at him. "Jamie, you're so stupid sometimes."

"...Thanks."

"No, I mean it! You honestly think Jack likes you any less because of that? Come on. He's not like that at all." She stuck out her tongue. "You don't pay attention to much, do you?"

Jamie sat down cross-legged next to her, leaning against the box he'd set to the ground earlier. He had a sneaking suspicion that she'd brought up the subject of his college just so they'd get into this specific conversation, because since he was leaving for South Carolina that very weekend they wouldn't get another chance to discuss it.

"Alright, alright," he sighed heavily, gesturing for her to continue. "Have at it. Say what you wanna say, I'm not going anywhere till Saturday."

Sophie frowned, and when she spoke again he was surprised to hear that her voice lost its usual sarcastic edge.

"You didn't see him," she said softly. "Jack, I mean. He was really upset when you stopped believing, even though he didn't want you to know. And trust me, because I was the one babysitting him most of the time. I think he wanted to be with me because it was close to you."

She paused. "That sounded creepy. And maybe that's not quite right. I'm sure he likes me too, but I'm not special like you are. Jack was really depressed, Jamie. He tried not to show it, but he was. I could tell, and I did my best to make him feel better, but it wasn't like when you were around. He didn't smile as much and he faked it a lot and I couldn't fix it a lot of the time."

Sophie let out a huff of breath, blowing her bangs upwards. "And then when you started to believe again, he was all back to normal except happier. So that's how I know you're the favorite and not me and that'swhyIthinkyoushouldn'tgotoSouthCarolina."

Jamie waited while she caught her breath, until she gave him an expectant look that clearly told him she was waiting for him to say something back. He awkwardly cleared his throat and began with, "You've been wanting to say all that for a while, haven't you?"

His sister nodded wordlessly.

"Well, I can't not go to USC. It's a bit late to back out now, but I promise you I'll visit as much as I can. I'm going to miss you a lot, you know, Jack too. I feel terrible about what happened between us, you know that, and I wish there was a way to fix it, but I don't think staying home from college is going to fix anything in the long run. I have to go, Soph. My _life_ is beginning." Jamie paused and frowned. "That sounded really cheesy."

Sophie snorted and he grinned, happy to finally get a smile out of her. He must be doing something right, then. Encouraged, he continued, "I'm going to trust you to keep him company, okay? Just till I get back. Can you do that?"

"Yes," she sighed. "It's still not the same."

"Of course it's not. I don't know if you know this, but I'm a pretty big deal around here."

Sophie laughed outright at that and elbowed him playfully in the ribs. "Check your privilege. I'm a big deal too."

"I know you are. That's why I'm trusting you with this. You can do it, right?"

"Right."

Jamie smiled a little sadly. He knew Sophie would be able to pull through in his absence, and he was honestly a little jealous. Okay, more than a little. She had been with Jack when he wasn't, and as a result they had a connection that he was left out of. She could argue who was the 'favorite' all she wanted, but Jamie knew. Now, Jack would almost always go to her when he was upset, even more so now that Jamie was leaving for college. Things were different, and there wasn't any way to change it back.

* * *

**A/N:**

**So remember how recently I was in a rut where I could only write about Jack's death? ****Got out of that one, now I'm in this one where I can't stop writing about Jamie's lack of believe. Dammit, why does this happen? Whatever.**

**(I honestly don't know what the climate is like in South Carolina. I assume it's warm? Ignore me.)**

**Shoutout to BobaAddict. It's her birthday today and she's a good friend of mine so everyone should go over to her page and surprise her with a bunch of reviews on her story because she's amazing and her writing's amazing so yeah.**

**Till next time!**


	78. The Shadow Man

The children cowered in their cages as the shadowy man strode by, shrinking back into the shadows when he fixed his cold, grey-gold on their shivered forms. His lips twisted back into a grotesque smirk that showed off his shark-like teeth, which only served to frighten the children more. Which was the intention, really; if they weren't afraid, how would they be kept in line?

The shadow man smiled wider and stuck his hand through the bars of one of the hanging cages, reaching towards the shivering, wide-eyed boy inside and tousling his hair. The boy squeezed his eyes shut and visibly swallowed a whimper.

"Do you realize why you're here?" the shadow man asked, gesturing around the dark and gloomy lair under the ground. Moonlight filtered in, just enough to make their surroundings visible. The shadow man's face could not be seen, save for his crooked smile and glowing eyes.

The boy took a deep breath and, without opening his eyes, managed to stammer, "P-Please...let me go h-home..."

The shadow man laughed, a high, humorless sound that chilled the children to their bones. "It wouldn't be much of a punishment if I did that, now would it?" He spread his arms dramatically. "All of you are here for one reason, because you've been naughty. You're here until you've learned your lesson and can be good children again."

A few of them began to cry, if they hadn't been already. Ignoring them, the shadow man moved fluidly over to a cage near the center of the room. Only one thin arm could be seen, hanging limply through the bars, unmoving. The man stared down at it, and said flatly, "She never learned hers, did she? Pity."

The children, ten or fifteen of them in all, inhaled and once and moved as far back in their hanging cages as they could, as far away from the shadow man as possible. Had they truly been so naughty as to deserve such a fate? There were always warnings their parents gave them ("If you don't behave yourself, the Bagman will come and take you away!") but they had always dismissed it as just a scary fairy tale, like Hansel and Gretel or something like that. None of them ever thought that it would come true, that they would go to bed and wake up in a gilded cage suspected from a stone ceiling, the darkness underground too much to see exactly where they were. Some had arrived sooner than others, been there for a few days, and some had been taken that very night. Boys and girls, all under the age of ten and from many different places, but they all had one thing in common. They were afraid and they wanted to go home. Had they been bad children? Yes, that was likely. They all knew the Bagman didn't take those who were good. But naughty or not, none of those behind bars didn't want to be home safe in their mother's arms.

The shadow man seemed to feel their terror, and he loved it. He hadn't stopped smiling since the last of the new arrivals had woken up, and since then had been circling around the large room in which they were held, smirking in satisfaction. He'd only spoken once, just now.

The small boy buried his face in his knees and began to sob.

Again, the shadow man took no notice of the children's distress. He walked over to a large globe covered in pinpricks of light, kicking aside an empty burlap sack as he went. Where the globe stood, the moon shone the brightest, and the shadow man could feel its disapproval.

"Don't look at me like that," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "You ought to be pleased. This is the job you gave me to do, using fear to keep them in line. They should be punished accordingly for being disobedient, don't you agree?"

The moon didn't answer, not that he's really expected it to. Instead, the shadow man listened to the cries of the children behind him and smiled to himself. Music to his ears. He was the one in power, the one keeping the small ones safe. No one could stop him.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Ack. Sorry it's been so long. Haven't really been feeling motivated to do much, but here this is!**

**The old legends of the Boogeyman, particularly around Germany and other areas of Europe, tell of the Bagman and how he kidnaps children who misbehave and carries them away. I don't really like demonizing Pitch, but that subject was just too good and I had to use it. It really makes you wonder what he kept in those cages before the tooth fairies, though... (It's a good thing that the book backstory for him is different then the movie backstory. Don't mention it, shhh.)**

**Till next time!**


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